Stood Up
by Zade Kay
Summary: A reunion. An assassination attempt. A tin man who won't let her out of his sight. Powers she can't control and that only seem to be getting stronger. It only figures that there'd be Gods involved. Cain/DG Rating may go to M later.
1. Take me to the riot

A/N: Yay my first Tin Man fic! I know, I'm a little late to the game, but this just begged to be written. In fact it went completely off the path I had set for it, and my original first chapter had to be split, it was getting so lengthy. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Pretty sure I don't own Tin Man, any of its characters, and if I did, I'd share.

DG still struggled with the fashions of the OZ.

She had finally convinced the royal dressmaker that she was not a hoop-skirt kinda gal, that anything with rosettes, bustles, tiers, cap sleeves, or collars would not make her short list, and they had compromised (after tears on both ends) on tonight's gown.

It was still more fuss than she wanted, but not the monstrosity that its predecessors had been; a pale forget-me-not blue, made of a soft, billowy fabric that was pleated and fitted along the bodice and flowed out from her hips to fall to the floor. There was a length of black velvet ribbon tied in a bow at her waist, and the dressmaker had begged and pleaded and threatened her into a corset that set her pale, modest cleavage to harlequin romance cover proportions.

She was terrified that every time she breathed it would draw comparisons to the heaving bosoms of said aforementioned heroines, so she tried not to do a lot of that. Breathing, that is.

Normally, DG dreaded the pomp and flare of court events such as these, which were held with ridiculous frequency to celebrate any and every event, like the ball that had been organized in honour of Lord Finceroy's third son's first successful attempt at facial hair.

Every titled member of the OZ had come bedecked in their finest and toasted the boy's patchy beard.

She hated being bedecked, bedazzled, coiffed and perfumed. She detested the snooty, stale pleasantries exchanged over gaggingly sweet cakes. She _loathed_ the duty as Heir Apparent to mingle and simper and remember lengthy titles and curtsey and entertain.

DG longed for the days of charging head-first into certain death in jeans and sneakers.

The only reason the smile plastered on her face did not feel as counterfeit as it usually did at such an event was because Glitch had _promised_ her that Cain and Raw would be attending tonight.

If there was one thing DG pined for more than denim, cotton and open fields, it was her friends. And green M&Ms. And disposable razors. And sleeping in on Sundays. And-

Okay, there was a list of things she missed longer than her arm, but tonight she would see her friends, all of them, in one place. No one would be shot, unconscious, netted, bloody, entombed or bewitched.

DG had not seen Cain or Raw in months, as one of the first things that her mother had done when restored to her throne was to ask Cain to be Captain of the Tin Men. He had refused the position at first, citing that that part of his life was over, but was eventually bullied into stepping into the position as Acting Captain, until a suitable replacement came along.

Shortly after, he had gone on a tour of the OZ, chasing down defectors to the Witch, fugitive Longcoats and trying to restore law and order to the OZ.

Raw had peaced out a week or so after the Tin Man, having had enough of the fetters of the Palace, of the press of too many raw emotions after the eclipse. He had made quick goodbyes and taken Kalm back to his tribe of Viewers, where the two could mend after their long ordeal.

The only familiar faces she had been left with were Glitch, who was often too busy in his duties as Royal Advisor and working to rebuild the OZ, her mother, who was busy being, well, the Queen, Ahamo, who found himself a little out of practice playing the Consort and being confined to one place, and had taken to travelling to broker trade deals (which was far more legal than his role as the Seeker in the Realm of the Unwanted, but a great deal less fun he had told her) and Azkadellia.

Az.

Az who was incredibly fragile, unfalteringly guilt-stricken and repentant, and who flinched every time someone looked at her for fear they only saw the Witch.

Azkadellia was excused from these types of events while she fought to overcome the past, and she had once told DG with a sad smile that it was probably for the best that she did not attend, people didn't need to be reminded of the horror they had faced under the Witch's tyranny.

And DG herself was kept quite busy. There was so much to learn, to remember. She only had a handful of memories, and those were the memories of a child. As Heir Apparent she was subjected to lesson after lesson on history of the Realm, on trade policies, magic tutoring, etiquette, foreign politics, the list was endless and unbelievably dull.

But she still managed to find plenty of time to feel lonely. She felt out of place as a princess, she was an ill-fit for royalty. She still felt like a waitress from Kansas, much of the time.

Sometimes though, that experience as a waitress at a greasy spoon came in handy. Like when she needed to slap on a smile and be polite when a minor Lord was expounding upon her his entire family line, who he clarified, were a pure line and could be traced directly back to Queen someone or rather, and who had retained extensive wealth and pure stock.

"I myself, own two, no _three_ titles, several parcels of land within the OZ, and one island in the east of the Nonestic Ocean," he told her confidentially, smoothing pale hair back off his forehead in a move calculated to make maidens swoon. "I have hunted Jackoninnies in the Black Mountains, Papay in the fields of the Papay, and Shriekers in the Great Kells."

DG couldn't pull her eyes away from his jowels, which jiggled while he jabbered. She blinked. _Try saying that three times fast. _

When he leaned in closer, pressing his padded shoulder to hers, she entertained herself by playing "What's that stuck in his teeth?" to keep herself from shoving him away.

As the Lord began to regale her with hunting tales, someone tapped her shoulder, mercifully rescuing her from the climax of his tale, in which he ate the still-beating heart of some poor animal as some sort of masculine test of... masculinity.

She turned and met a pair of pale blue eyes that danced as they looked her over and she interrupted the Lord's tale with a decidedly un-princess like dive at the Tin Man.

"_Cain!" _she squealed, before she remembered that princesses don't squeal.

DG used her momentum to push the Tin Man further away from Lord whatshisface and embraced the man in order to frantically whisper in his ear. "Rescue me!"

Cain blinked and stood awkwardly in her embrace before he caught on to her meaning and he gave a shallow nod to the Lord. "Excuse us, I have a lot of catching up to do with the Princess."

He gave her a brief squeeze and stepped back, offering his arm and escorting her to a quieter part of the room. They made their way to an alcove, where there was at least a deception of calm, and Cain placed his back against the wall, so he could monitor the room.

Cain had a thing about always having his back to a wall. He had told her once he liked to see trouble coming, and he couldn't do that with his back turned.

DG looked over her friend with a smile, her first genuine one of the night, and noted that he had developed more of a tan in the months he had been patrolling the OZ. He looked good in his dress uniform of black piped with emerald green. He also had a number of official looking ribbons. But from the way he fidgeted with the collar of the jacket, she knew he would much rather be in his well-worn duster and trade-mark hat.

"If someone had told me that saving the OZ meant a lifetime of crinoline and formal wear, I might've rethought this whole thing," she said with a grin. "I'm thinking you'd trade in the uniform too."

Cain quit fidgeting with his jacket and gave her a once over. "I don't know, you look mighty presentable in a gown Princess."

"Wanna trade?" she offered, leaning forward to flick one of his gold buttons and wrinkling her nose.

His lips quirked and he kicked one foot back to rest against the wall. "I've been told periwinkle is not my colour."

DG snorted. "Someone misled you, Cain. Periwinkle would make your eyes pop. You'd be a vision!"

Cain rolled his eyes, but his lips were twitching. "I hate these things," he confided, somehow managing to convey his dislike of nobility, restrictive finery, dancing and Lords who try and impress their wealth upon you while breathing their horrible salmon breath all over you with one nod.

Or maybe she was projecting. Just a little.

DG mimicked his pose as best she could while wearing a floor length gown and leaned against the wall next to him. "What's there to hate? You get to stuff yourself into your most uncomfortable formal wear, wear shoes that pinch, there's wonderfully smelly food that gets imported from places you can't pronounce the name of," she counted off on her fingers as she went.

"You get to swap fascinating tales about alliances and trade agreements, and sometimes if you're really lucky, while you dance insanely intricate, ridiculous waltzes designed to make you look like a complete ass, a creepy diplomat will repeatedly try and grab your ass, or stare at your cleavage. It's all good fun."

Cain raised a scarred eyebrow. "We have different definitions of fun."

She grinned at him, feeling something loosen in her chest. She felt oddly relaxed for the first time in ages, and she was having fun trading banter with the Tin Man.

"I missed you, Cain, you big stick in the mud," she declared with a laugh.

He gave a shallow bow and pulled himself from the wall with a reluctant sigh. "We'd best get back to the festivities before someone complains that I've corrupted their Princess."

"Ha!" DG squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before she gestured at Cain. "Lead on, my Captain."

Cain turned to do just that before he paused and turned back to her, offering his arm. "I forget my manners, Princess."

She made a face at that, but followed her etiquette lessons and gingerly place her hand in the crook of his elbow and the two of them made their way back into the hubub.

They had made it to about the midway point of the great hall when DG spotted a familiar furry face, and she nudged Cain with her elbow and pointed. "It's Raw!"

Raw caught sight of them a moment later and his face broke into a happy grin as he began to make his way to them.

Her Viewer friend was still a good distance away, separated from them by the crowds of people packed into the Great Hall, when from behind the pair of them came the sharp crystalline noise of glass shattering.

Cain released her arm and spun, hand already reaching, lightening fast, for his holster. Which of course, he was not wearing. Weapons were generally discouraged at formal events, and even the military guests at this function were asked to leave their side-arms at home.

DG turned as well, and took in the scene in front of her.

It appeared as though one of the guests had bumped into a server, who had dropped his tray of wine glasses. The young man hastily tried to pick up the slivers of broken glass, stacking them on his tray and apologizing profusely to the guests around him.

One woman, in a voluminous scarlet gown, was making a great fuss about wine stains on her train.

Patting the tin man's forearm, DG grinned up at him. "Crisis adverted. Who'd have thought life would become so dull that the biggest worry we'd have would be how to remove merlot stains?"

Cain only looked at her, all the while thumbing at the empty spot where his gun belt usually rested, obviously feeling naked without his side-arm.

"Let's go find Raw -" DG forgot the rest of her sentence as all the lights blinked out and the hall was plunged into sudden dark.

A sharp, feminine scream echoed through the black and she felt a calloused hand grip hers tightly before she was wrenched against a firm body that smelled achingly familiar.

"Hold on to me, kid, I can't see a damn thing," Cain murmured, disquiet settling into his voice.

The sounds of panic were becoming more apparent around them as voices cried out in the dark, many people questioning whether the lights were going to make a reappearance anytime soon.

Then a male voice cried out, his voice cutting through the din and rising above the crowd's. "I can't open the doors! The doors are locked!"

"Why are the doors locked?"

"What's going on?"

"I can't see!"

"Let us _out!" _

The seed of panic travelled fast and furious and soon the noise was overwhelming as the entirety of the Hall was filled with raised voices, panicked cries and the sound of a thousand people fumbling around blindly in the dark.

Someone slammed into her side, shoving her further into Cain, and she gripped at him with her free hand, fisting it into the fabric of his jacket. In response he tangled his fingers with hers and gripped her hand tightly.

"Hold on to me, Princess, and don't let go. I won't be able to find you if we get separated," he ordered, his voice low and dark, somewhere close to her ear.

She nodded tightly, realized he couldn't see her in the dark any better than she could see him, _idiot, _and then voiced her understanding aloud.

Blinking in the utter pitchy blackness, that was unchanged whether her eyes were open or shut, she felt a tremor of fear curl up next to her spine. She literally could not see a thing.

"Where is the Queen and her Consort?" he asked her urgently.

"Oh my God, I don't know! I lost track of them!" The note of fear in her turned into a full blown panic when she realized the path his thoughts were taking and her stomach dropped out.

The last she'd seen of Lavender and Ahamo were of the pair in earnest discussion with the delegate from the Vinkus, and that had been at least an hour ago.

Cain caught onto the strain drawing her body tight as a bow-string and his free hand caught ahold of her shoulder and squeezed. "Calm down kiddo, there are guards with them, wherever they are, and whoever orchestrated this is as in the dark as we are at the moment."

DG sucked in a calming breath and tried not to think of anything lurking in the dark. Her imagination was fighting her tooth and nail to swamp her with terrifyingly detailed images and she regretted every horror movie she had ever seen.

"I can make light," she informed him quietly, and felt her magic tingle down to her fingertips as if it could intuit what she wanted from it.

"No, I'm thinkin' it would be a bad idea to draw attention right now."

There was a sudden scream of pure terror that cut through the darkness, and DG felt the tin man shift, as he hunted out the source blindly.

"Forget that I was complaining about how boring our lives had become, okay? Boring is lovely. Boring is very in vogue now you know," DG whispered, clenching Cain's fingers spasmodically. "Hell, I'd take one of Tutor's lessons on magical substantiation right about now, and I'd hang on his every word."

Cain made a quiet noise of amusement and then there was a loud hiss and crackle and suddenly the darkness was cut by a sinister red flickering light.

DG thought it looked like an Othersider road flare, and tried to make out the chaos of the hall through the sputtering light that bathed everything in red and strobed erratically. Everything was disjointed, and it was hard to make heads or tails of anything.

Most of the people she could make out were huddled together, but DG noticed that there were figures striding about with purpose, a discordant note of organization in the chaos. Each of them carried a small orb that was the source of the hellish light.

Cain had noticed this too, and he gently untangled her fingers from his jacket to shift her behind the safety of his body. His face was steely in the odd light, and his gaze jumped around the hall, lighting on each of the light carriers.

"Where are the guards?" DG queried worriedly, eyes looking for the familiar grey and green uniforms. "Why aren't they doing anything?"

"DG, look," Cain growled and she followed his gaze.

The nearest man prowling about with a red orb held high was wearing a charcoal grey jacket, trimmed with emerald.

"Oh... Shit," DG breathed.

"That's about the same assessment I'd make," Cain agreed, his body going stiff under her hands.

A/N: Reviews would be much appreciated, especially since I'm desperate to know what people are thinking about this.


	2. Heavy in your arms

A/N: It's official, I'm too wordy. This is another lengthy chapter, but there were so few places to split them that would make sense.

"What do they want? Who are they?"

Cain wasn't given a chance to answer.

At that moment, like an act of well-rehearsed choreography, the men suddenly threw the orbs into the air in unison. At least twenty of the lights flew up to the ceiling, flickering with greater urgency and then suddenly they shattered.

Screams erupted all around them as tracers of red fire dove down toward the guests, streaking through the air with purpose. As DG watched, wide-eyed, several of the lights detached from the rest and altered course, mid-air.

The crimson streams of fire suddenly veered at she and Cain, and several people dove out of their trajectory as the witch lights streaked by them at eye-level, mindless of what was in the way.

There was no time to run, and Cain swore darkly, and turned to wrap his body around DG's, shielding her as best he could.

DG shrieked and drew on her magic, thinking of the simplest, quickest shield she could and tore her hand out from where it was crushed to Cain's chest, throwing it up over his shoulder and at the globes of flame that streaked toward them.

Her shield slammed into place, a thick plate of opaque white light, but even as it sparked to life, she realized it wasn't needed. The witch lights halted before they reached the shield and just hung, suspended in the air less than a foot from she and the tin man.

"They... stopped."

"I assumed, seein' as how we aren't crispy," Cain drawled bemusedly, unlocking his death grip on her, but keeping a hand on her arm to push her behind him once more. "But why?"

The men who had been searching the crowds had followed the path the lights had set out for them, and several of them fell into rank and began to circle the pair. DG felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise when she noted that each of the men wore the uniform of the palace guard.

The guests had scattered to the edges of the hall, and DG couldn't say she blamed them. If she'd had the option, she would probably behind a potted fern if she had the chance too.

Swallowing thickly as the men closed in on them, her eyes flickered to the red lights which hovered over she and Cain like markers. "Pretty sure they were just party favors, Cain. They're just showing the baddies where we are."

As the men reached the barrier of her shield, Cain kicked his feet apart and fell into a fighting stance. "How long can you keep that thing up?" he murmured, for her ears only.

DG shrugged and considered the question. "I dunno, it's not complicated. A few hours at least."

And then one of the men stepped to the forefront and with a wide grin that made her blood run cold he cupped his left hand in front of him and mouthed words she couldn't make out.

A ball of oily black flame pooled in his cupped hand and with a grunt he threw it at her shield violently.

The black flames spread over her shield of light and she could feel heat against her cheeks. Her shield shuddered and, with visible effort, swallowed the flames.

The man repeated his nifty trick as soon as the first ball had faded and DG gripped Cain's arm.

"Make that a few minutes," she corrected as she poured more magic into the barrier to reinforce it.

_They have a mage? Why do they have a mage?_

Cain's gun hand twitched unhappily. "We need a new plan."

"We had a plan?" DG queried with surprise. "Alright, new plan coming right up."

"Kid?" Cain asked, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

She would have been hurt by his distrust, but the situation distracted from her feelings right now. That and she had been known for jumping headfirst into situations that maybe could have benefited from a little forethought.

And this may be one of those situations.

DG tracked the pattern of the mage's methodical assaults on her wavering shield, and in the moment between his last assault being absorbed by her barrier and his summoning of the next handful of flame, she pulled her own shield down.

As soon as the light flickered out of existence she swept her arm out, like she was wielding a sword. Her magic roared out of her body like a wave, powerful, but with no finesse.

The wave of light slammed right into the mage's chest, and his eyes went wide as he was swept off his feet and carried several feet backwards in the air before he was tossed to the floor like a rag doll. The clumsy, but effective, weapon of pure power also knocked a few of the other impostor guards, nearest to the mage, off their feet.

"Ozma kid, a little warnin' next time," Cain admonished grumpily, before he rushed the nearest guard as the man reached for his weapon.

The tin man didn't bother for subtlety or style, and slammed his fist into the man's face with gusto. He followed it up with a quick knee to the midsection that dropped the fighter to his knees. Cain ensured the man would stay down with a swift kick to the face.

"We have to find my mother!" DG yelled to him, and she winced as the counterfeit guard Cain was grappling with got in a quick and dirty punch to the tin man's kidneys. "Cain!"

She gathered her skirts and prepared to dive into the fray, even though she knew Cain would very much dislike this plan, when one of the men stepped in front of her path.

He was tall, towering over her own diminutive height, and he was ruggedly handsome. He had a pleasant smile and he flashed it at her before giving her an elaborate, formal bow. "Princess DG."

DG frowned as the man righted himself and quirked an eyebrow at her saucily. "You'll forgive me if I don't curtsy, but I'm a little distracted by the fact that you're holding my court hostage," she bit out sarcastically.

He barked a laugh and then withdrew the baton at his hip. "We'll have plenty of time to get acquainted, majesty. In the meantime, if you'll come with me...?"

"I assume this is a come quietly or else situation?" DG asked, creeping backward and trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

"Got it in one!" He chirped, delighted, and his green eyes flashed.

DG continued shuffling backwards, and shook her head tensely. "I've never been able to resist a challenge. Let's go for curtain number two."

The man, who by all rights looked like he should be an underwear model, and not some paid mercenary, shrugged and flashed that affable smile again. "Unfortunate, but I didn't think you were the 'quiet' type."

He leapt at her gracefully and it was sheer luck that DG managed to spin away from his outstretched hands. She wasn't so lucky when he caught her in the face with a backhand that had rocked her.

Her magic flared instinctively in reaction, but he grabbed her and spun her into his body sharply, and the move distracted her from shaping the spell.

"Tut tut. None of that," he admonished.

Her back was pressed to a solid chest, and she noticed disconcertedly that he had a warm, pleasantly masculine smell.

He quickly trapped her hands and pinned them with one hand against her side. DG went limp in his grip and let her body weight pull them both down. The man gave a grunt of amusement as she pulled the move children everywhere use when they've run out of tactics. He had to switch his grip on her to catch her under the armpits to keep her from slipping to the floor, however.

_Ha!_ DG thought as her hands were unpinned, and she kicked her feet into the ground to shove herself backwards and into her attacker at the same moment that she threw an elbow that connected solidly with his solar plexus.

There was a sharp grunt and DG didn't hesitate, she used his moment of disorientation to wrench herself out of his grip and she whirled around to face him.

When he reached around again, she planted the palm of her hand into his chest and let loose a bolt of magic that she drew up hastily, feeling her stomach wrench as she did.

It was messy, and only half formed, nevertheless it threw him back and he slid across the slick, waxed floor for a good distance before the momentum stopped.

"Smile at that!" She spat, and turned her attention back to the rest of the fighters.

Cain was doing his best to take down the rest of the would-be assassins, and she picked out two men who were definitely down for the count, but there were still four left, and he was showing the strain of the fight.

A cut above his eye was bleeding fiercely into his eyes, and he was blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Even as she watched, he swung at one of the men, and another, unbelievably large man, caught him from behind and wrapped him in a bear hug.

Cain struggled wildly, throwing his head back to slam his head into his captor's chin, but the man only shook off the blow and gripped Cain even tighter. The look of pain on her friend's face was evident as the giant holding him constricted his tree-trunk arms and began to squeeze the law-man.

DG was frantically trying to think of a plan when one of the men at the edge of the fight pulled a revolver and waded into the fray, striding with a scowl towards the tin man who was still giving as good as he got.

"_Cain!" _DG screamed, feeling her throat constrict with fear.

The tin man kicked out a foot and connected with the man in front of him, and he used the leverage to shove he and his captor backwards. He repeated his trick of throwing his head back and connected with the giant's chin once again, but with a little more in the way of results this time.

The giant was forced to release one arm to pinwheel it to keep himself upright, and Cain took advantage of his loosened hold to twist his way to freedom.

By this time though, the man with the revolver had gotten in close range and he levelled his weapon at the back of the tin man's head.

"Wyatt Cain! Hit the decks!" DG shouted, with her best "Princess giving an order" tone, and was surprised at how fast the man threw himself to the floor.

She reached for the pool of her magic, noting that she was running out of fuel quickly, and cursed her lack of control and finesse.

_Enough for one last hurrah, c'mon. _

Her magic erupted from her with a sickening pull that had her feeling like she was drawing on more than just her power, and lashed out at the four remaining men like a whip, cracking and connecting with a sizzle of heat and the smell of charred flesh.

There were horrible screams as the men fell, and DG winced and slapped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes.

Cain was at her side a moment later, and when he touched her she flinched and gave a little shriek.

"Kid! It's me, quit the fireworks!" He ordered softly, his voice soothing and surprisingly gentle.

"Are they dead?" She bit out, eyes still screwed shut.

"I think most of 'em are still breathing, which is a shame really," Cain informed her. "I don't think you killed anyone, kid."

DG took a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes. When she realized she was flickering like a Roman candle, she made the effort to calm herself and reigned in her magic.

"I can't control it Cain, I just let it go. I don't want to kill anyone," she said, a bitter note creeping in as she confessed to her lack of control over her magic.

"I know. You did just fine. Saved my ass, that's for sure," he reassured her, offering her a quirked smile.

DG took a deep breath and gave him a shaky one in return. "It's about damn time I got to rescue _you._"

And then something slammed into her chest, the force of it rocking her on her toes. DG looked down, puzzled, and was even more confounded by the leather wrapped hilt that protruded from her body, just above the swell of her right breast.

She turned her wide-eyed gaze on Cain and was frightened by the look of horror that was plainly written on his face.

Cain spun and fired off a shot from his purloined revolver, and the man who had regained consciousness long enough to make one last ditch attempt on her life fell for the last time.

DG opened her mouth to ask, ask about the look on his face, ask him why it was suddenly so _hard to breathe_ and how come her chest burned with pain so fierce she could feel it in her teeth? She got no further than parting her lips and then she was falling.

She heard him scream her name, harsh and pained.

She hit the floor before Cain had a chance to reach her, but she heard the impact more than she felt it.

She thought _Oh _and _Wow_, and a fleeting _Dying? _and then Cain's face was right in front of hers and his fingers were on her face.

His pale blue eyes were swimming with more emotions than she could untangle, but she thought she saw worry, grief and shock in the mix.

"Kid, no, hey. It's okay, you're okay," Cain murmured to her, his fingers sweeping over the curve of her cheek with shaky fingers. "Stick with me here, okay?"

DG opened her mouth, unsure if she was trying to catch a breath or reassure him, and a froth of blood bubbled out and down her chin. A bolt of pain radiated outward from her chest, so intense that her body contorted upward, curving her spine with the force of her spasms.

Cain's face twisted and she felt his hands at her shoulders, trying to hold her down. "Darlin', I know it hurts, I know. But you gotta stay still 'til Raw gets here."

She slumped back to the floor under the pressure of his hands, more out of exhaustion than because the pain had passed. With every breath she fought for and couldn't draw, she heard a thick gurgling. Her vision was going grey at the edges.

The tin man swore as her eyes began to flutter shut and she flinched at the panic in his voice when he gave a hoarse scream. "_Raw! Where the hell are you?"_

His calloused fingers were gripping her chin and she fought to open her eyes once more. She met his eyes and read the denial in the stubborn set of his jaw, and she would have laughed at his face in any other circumstance.

_And you call ME stubborn, _she thought.

Wyatt Cain refused to entertain the thought that she would _dare_ die in his presence, and the tin man seemed to think she needed his permission before she entertained the notion. He would fight this tooth and nail, she knew.

DG didn't think it worked that way, but she kinda wished it did.

It took a herculean effort to lift her hand, but she managed to bring it to Cain's cheek even though her fingers trembled with the strain of it. She pressed her fingertips to his jaw and held his eyes, hoping he could read the words she wanted to say but could not.

Cain, being Cain, caught on quickly. "No, no. You are _not _sayin' goodbye here goddamnit!" he growled, catching her hand with his own to hold it.

_Trust Cain to ruin the moment. _

She felt a tide of grey nothingness rush up to meet her and she panicked. DG fought to say goodbye before it was too late and her magic reacted to her desperation. It surged through her and rushed out through the fingers of the hand that was touching Cain.

DG said goodbye the best way she knew how and, exhausted and hurting, she let the darkness take her.

A/N: Reviews are love!


	3. Breathe Me

Disclaimer: Totally not mine, I'm just playing with the Tin Man verse.

A/N: Fairly lengthy chapter! Also, this chapter would have been a disaster without the guidance (and hand-holding) of my new Beta, Flitch! Thanks Flitch!

Cain kneeled on the hardwood floor, with DG's trembling hand on his cheek, and his hand dancing uncertainly around the hilt of the knife that protruded obscenely from above her right breast. He knew he couldn't pull it out, not without risking her bleeding to death, but he also knew if something wasn't done, and soon, she was going to die right there in front of him.

DG was staring into his eyes, her own blue eyes, wide and emotive, were pupil-blown with shock. She held his gaze, searching, imploring, speaking to him without words. Her shaking fingers ghosted lightly over his cheek. Her lips, now pale with shock, moved to form words she had no breath to speak.

Cain was no damn fool, he knew exactly what she was trying to do, trying to convey. "No, no. You are _not _sayin' goodbye here goddamnit!" he snarled, gripping her hand to his cheek and squeezing her fingers, trying to swallow down the panic rising in his gut.

Even with a knife in her chest, which in all likelihood had punctured her lung, and surrounded by a growing tide line of her own blood, DG managed to look a little exasperated at his denial. When her body shuddered and her eyes went dark with pain, Cain saw the desperation flit across her face. Her fingers pressed tighter to his cheek and her eyes ghosted shut, her nose crinkling in a familiar expression of concentration.

A faint glow of magic appeared at her breastbone, and then it sparked up to her shoulder and travelled down her left arm, and out of the corner of his eye, Cain could see DG's hand glowing at his cheek for a brief second. Then, with a gentle warmth, he could feel DG's magic slip into his skin. It slid through his body, grew stronger, spread. It felt like warm fingers were caressing him, like someone was murmuring soothing words to him. As strange as it sounded, it _felt_ like DG had slipped briefly into his skin. It _felt, _oddly enough, like how DG _smelled_ (sun-warmed skin, vanilla and fresh rain), it felt like mischief and laughter, like stubbornness and a fierceness tempered by selflessness and love. It felt like too many memories to follow, and regret over the ones that should have come next.

He felt that warmth, that confusing bundle of emotions, settle somewhere inside him, and he touched a finger to his chest, right above his heart, in awe.

_It felt like goodbye. _

DG's hand slipped from his face, and she stilled without a sound.

Cain stared at her for a long moment, disbelieving, and then he uttered a hoarse cry that was something between a whimper and a scream and he scrambled to recapture her hand (_small, so small)_. With hands that shook he let two fingers hover over the pulse point at her throat. He felt like he was swallowing his heart, but he forced himself to press his fingers to her neck. There was a brief instant of panic he felt nothing, a moment where his thoughts replayed the scene when she turned to him, face needy and confused, and one of her hands had flitted to the hilt in her chest before she crumpled and fell to the ground, like his mind was his very own TDESPHTL.

Then, so faintly that he was sure he had imagined it, there was a slow, weak thump underneath his fingers. Then, another, and another. They were too far apart, but they were there, and right now, Cain would take what he could get.

The danger was far from over, however. So Cain gingerly gathered the girl into his lap and took as much time as he dared to formulate a plan of action. First he had to find Raw, so the Viewer could pull DG back from the brink of death, and he would have to avoid the militant mercenaries still prowling the hall. He couldn't fight if he had an armful of unconscious princess, and there was no way in _hell_ that he was leaving her alone. After that he had to find Queen, her Consort and Glitch, and make sure they were unharmed.

It didn't occur to him that his first priority should have been to the Queen, or if it did, he brushed the thought aside pretty damn quick.

It took a couple of false-starts before Cain could get to his feet while cradling DG to his chest like a child, but he managed to do it without jarring her injury, and once he was up he readjusted his grip slightly to hold her better. DG was feather-light and limp in his arms that it made his heart give a agonized thump, and the urge to keep her safe (_and breathin',_ added his mind helpfully) became even stronger.

"Alright darlin', let's find fur-face and get you fixed up," Cain murmured, eyes questing over the crowd, trying to find the familiar figure of the Viewer in the questionable lighting.

In the end, Cain found Raw only because the Viewer was already looking for him. They practically ran each other over in their fervour to get to the other, and Cain made an aggrieved noise, clutching DG to his chest. He was caught between shielding her from any _outsider_ and pressing her to the Viewer to get him to just _stop the bleeding, please!_

"DG hurt. Raw must heal, soon, or heart will stop," Raw told him, bristling with rage over what had been done to his friend.

"We have to get somewhere out of the way, c'mon," Cain instructed brusquely, unwilling to pay the last of the Viewer's statement any heed.

As they skirted the wall, trying to avoid people and find a safe place to heal DG, Cain inquired (perhaps with a bit of accusation) where the hell Raw had been when the fighting broke out and DG was attacked.

"Raw tried to get to Cain and DG when lights go out. But people panic, people scared, people angry. Feeling overwhelmed Raw," he explained, hanging his head slightly and one of his gloved hands reached out to stroke the hair out of DG's face apologetically. "Then Raw tried again, but Raw kept finding people who needed Raw's help. Raw did not know Cain and DG were attacked."

Cain clicked his tongue against his teeth and gave a terse nod. It made perfect sense that Raw would feel obligated to stop and reassure those who were upset, he couldn't help but feel their emotions. He tried not to feel resentful of those people, who in truth had only served as an obstacle to keep Raw from getting to them right away.

He led them to an alcove that was largely hidden in shadow. At Raw's request, he gingerly lowered both himself and DG to the floor, sliding his back against the rough wall, but unwilling to put her down, he simply readjusted his grip on her so Raw could access her injury and gave the Viewer a look that dared him to try and release his hold on her.

Raw wisely said nothing, but gave him a shuttered look, and instead he took a deep, calming breath to center himself and eyed the knife for a moment. "Knife is problem. Cannot heal around knife."

"But we pull it out and we deal with the bleedin'," Cain swore, realizing the dilemma. The knife could be all that kept the kid from bleeding out, she could literally exsanguinate in seconds and they would be helpless.

"No choice," Raw shook his head. "No time."

Cain inhaled through his nose as the Viewer wrapped his hand around the hilt. The urge to stop the Viewer was fierce, and he wondered at his sudden over-the-top protection streak. He knew this would cause DG pain, and more than anything, he wanted to save her that. His fingers twitches and then fisted in the material of DG's silky gown and he managed not to interfere. Raw drew the knife out in one smooth movement, although the force he had to use to pull it tugged DG's limp body up and Cain had to hold on tight to keep her in his arms.

DG's body twitched faintly, but otherwise she didn't react. Cain took that as a sign of how very serious this was, as if he didn't already have a clue. The girl was, by rights, dead to the world. That was only slightly less disturbing than if she had awoken and reacted to the pain. He tried to be thankful that she wasn't suffering, Cain had seen this girl suffer more than her fair share, and he would do anything to save her from that.

Raw immediately clamped his hands over the wound, but blood spurted up through the gaps in his fingers. Raw looked grim and serious, and when he closed his eyes, his face looked like a man going into battle.

"Lung has puncture," Raw confirmed, and shifted his hand slightly.

DG convulsed, either with as a side-effect of the healing, or from pain. Cain thought the last was a damn solid theory, he could attest to how badly a healing hurt. It was like days, weeks, _months_ of natural healing all sped up into a minute or two. It hurt like hell. Raw made a reluctant, anguished look, and then he pushed his fingertips into the wound, opening it further, and a surge of new, thick blood gushed out. DG spasmed so violently in his arms, arching her back to the point where he thought she would snap her own spine and he fought to hold her down, fingers digging into her shoulders and hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"What the hell are you _doing to her?_" Cain bellowed, forgetting to keep quiet in the face of DG's pain.

Raw's fingers sunk to the first knuckle and he didn't open his eyes as he concentrated. "Wound deep. Raw need to heal layers far down first."

"Fuck," he snarled, borrowing one of the kid's Otherside curses. "Can you do this any quicker?"

Raw ignored him, and after a minute he withdrew his fingers and cupped her gash with his bloodied hands, and began to rock back and forth as he forced her body to knit blood vessels, muscles, tendons and skin back together at an unnatural speed. The Viewer began to shake with the effort of the healing.

Finally Raw pulled back his hand, and although there was an astonishing amount of blood (on Raw's hands, all over DG, the floor, Cain's chest), Raw gave him a tight nod to let him know the wound was closed.

"DG still in danger. Wound healed, but Raw cannot replace blood."

Cain clenched his jaw and looked down at the girl resting in his lap. Her face was so pale that it was nearly translucent, and touched with gray around her mouth and under her eyes. Her chest fluttered each time she drew a breath, and when his fingers checked her pulse this time, he found that her heartbeat had gone from slow to erratic. He stroked a piece of hair out of her face and finally he looked at Raw.

"We need to get her to the infirmary, get her a blood transfusion," Cain mumbled, thinking aloud. "But I need to get to the Queen and the Consort, get them out of here. I need to find Glitch, as well. And do all that without gettin' myself killed."

Raw made an inquisitorial noise at him. "Cain get DG, get Queen out how? Door is locked from outside."

Cain sat up a little straighter and peered around the hall, his thoughts whirring with plans and strategies. "There's a servant's entrance 'round the back, near the portrait wall. I'm bettin' those haven't been blocked off, since they lead to the kitchen. You're going to have to take the kid and try and get out that way. If they are locked, or you see trouble, I want you to lay low with her. I'm going after the Queen."

Raw rumbled in agreement and opened his arms so Cain could transfer the unconscious girl. "Raw protect DG. Raw get DG out, if Raw can."

"It seems to me I should threaten you with what I would do to you if she gets hurt while she's with you, but I think we're both of an understandin' about that," Cain told him, as he hesitated to hand over his precious cargo. His arms seemed to have locked tight around her without his say so.

"Raw will protect DG, Cain know this." And he did. So he reluctantly made the awkward exchange, not letting go until he was sure that Raw had a firm grip on the kid.

Cain gave a sharp nod of agreement, and reached over to squeeze Raw's shoulder. As he moved away he let his fingers drop and pressed them briefly to DG's soft cheek. He turned without saying goodbye, and slid into the shadows gathered along the wall. The spot in his chest that DG's magic had made its home gave a painful flutter as he turned his thoughts from the pair with great effort and focused his attention on the rest of what needed to be done.

He had a sudden urge to do violent things to those who had hurt his friend. A part of him he had kept locked away for a long time reared its ugly head, and black images filled his head.

* * *

In the end, Cain had managed to find a small band of men and women who had banded together and fought the intruders. They were a motley crew perhaps twenty, made up of former resistance fighters, retired guards, civilians and one young man dressed in a server's uniform who Cain thought he recognized as the glass dropper.

They had broken up into two groups; one group had split off to go after the mercenaries, the others had gone to protect the Queen and her Consort.

Cain elected to go to the band protecting the Queen and Ahamo, and there he found Glitch, who once more demonstrated his impossible dance skills, and by the time Cain had arrived, the fighting was all but over. Queen Lavender and Ahamo were safe, tucked into the relative safety of the columned alcoves behind the thrones at the fore of the hall. They were surrounded by the band of fighters.

When the tide of the fighting began to turn against the mercenaries, and the makeshift guard was preparing for the men to surrender to take them prisoner, the man Cain was advancing on gave him a sharp salute and dropped his knife.

Cain gave an inner sigh of relief, enough blood had been shed this night, much as a part of him disagreed with that notion. As he moved in to arrest the man, however, the mercenary stuck his thumb and forefinger in between his lips and gave a short, sharp whistle that pierced through the din. He then pulled a vial of some viscous fluid from his breast pocket.

Alarmed, Cain moved to tackle him, but the young man popped the top of the vial with a thumbnail and swallowed the liquid before the tin man could reach him. By the time Cain got close enough to grab his arms, the man was already convulsing, eyes waxen and wide. He ended up with the man in his arms, watching the light fade from his wild eyes, and when the man died, Cain lowered him to the ground with an oath so dark it would have made DG proud.

He was so frustrated, he gave the man a firm kick in the side, _'Goddamn coward!', _but that only made him feel worse. Kicking a man when he was down was something his own dad had taught him wasn't what an honourable man did. Kicking a _dead_ man when he was down probably hadn't entered his father's mind when he was handing out life lessons.

In the end, none of the men who had stormed the Great Hall were left breathing, and Glitch came to him, his normally cheerful face grim and bruised, and presented him with a hand of empty vials. "They all took this unpleasant concoction, those that weren't already passed breathing."

When they were sure the hall was secure, they allowed the Queen to step out from the alcove, Ahamo at her side (fuming over the fact that he had not been allowed to join the fight) and she had immediately sought Cain out.

"Where is my daughter, Captain?" she asked him quietly, her face tight with worry. Glitch and Ahamo crowded in to hear his reply, both looking anxious.

Cain fought the urge to fidget under the Queen's amethyst gaze. "We were attacked, your Majesty, DG was injured. I left her in Raw's care, and instructed him to get her to the Palace Infirmary by way of the kitchens."

"Injured? How badly?" Glitch cut in, his words slightly marred by the rapid swelling of his split lip.

"One of them threw a knife, she was stabbed in the chest," he had to quell a feeling of intense rage and guilt, and he turned his gaze to the Queen. "When I left her, she was unconscious, but Raw had healed the wound as best he could. She needs a blood transfusion, though."

The Queen pressed her fingers to her mouth and closed her eyes briefly. "Ozma, no. This is so horrible. We were supposed to be safe now. _She _was supposed to be safe. She did her part!"

"I take full responsibility for the Princesses' injuries, your Highness. I should have protected her better."

"Captain, I have no doubt you did everything you could. There isn't a man alive I would count on to protect my daughter better than you," Ahamo interjected, encircling his wife in his arms.

Cain said nothing to this, but his fist clenched at his side, and a vise constricted his chest.

"I want to see my daughter, Captain. Find me a way out of this gods-be-damned hall," The Queen ordered quietly, her mouth twisting unhappily.

Cain thought that was the best idea he'd heard in ages.

* * *

They were gathered in the infirmary, clustered around a bed that held the impossibly fragile, diminutive figure of the Princess.

She was still too pale, her lips looked bloodless and pale, and she had been arranged in an unnatural position that reminded Cain too much of someone who was not merely unconscious, but taking a dirt nap. Her hands were folded on her chest, her curls had been brushed back from her face so that her hair lay like a dark halo around her face. Even hooked up to the syringes and tubes that connected her like an exterior vein to her mother and gave her the much needed transfusion of blood hadn't yet helped restore her natural colour.

Cain had elected to be the blood donor, but he had been told he had the wrong blood type, and so Queen Lavender sat by the kid's bed, stroking her hair back from her forehead and murmuring nonsense at her, her dress sleeve pushed up, and a syringe affixed to the crook of her elbow.

The healer had offered to treat Cain's bloody knuckles, and the shallow knife cut he had on his upper arm, but he had declined. Glitch stood at his left side, lower lip puffy and a nasty looking bruise forming underneath his right eye, but he knew they both shared the sentiment that they had gotten off lightly.

"Your Majesties, the workin' theory at this point, until we had the intell to prove differently, is that this was an assassination attempt. We don't know who these men are, but I'd place my bets square on a pocket of disgruntled longcoats, but we do know they managed to kill two dozen of our guards early in the night and take their place." Cain told them, annoyed that he didn't have all the facts yet, only theories and postulations.

"They murdered all the guards? How? Wouldn't there have been a commotion?" Glitch interjected, his face puzzled.

"All the guards were found in the barracks, not a damn mark on 'em, but dead as dead gets. Stripped of their uniforms," Cain growled, his mouth sour with the idea of someone murdering good men and then robbing their corpses.

"Magic, then?" Ahamo asked testily, although it was less of a question than a statement. The Consort had been raging the entirety of the night, at feeling useless during all the action, and for not being there when his daughter had fought for her life.

"They did have a mage tonight. The Princess took him down," Cain couldn't help the note of pride in his voice.

"DG took down a fully-trained mage? She isn't trained!" Queen Lavender contested, surprised.

"She shielded us at first, and when he attacked her shield, she pulled it down while he was reloadin' and blasted him. Took him and a few others out."

"Why is anyone surprised by anything DG manages anymore?" Glitch queried, amused.

Cain tried to hide a snort of laughter behind his fist, and he saw Ahamo's eyes twinkling. At that moment, the healer bustled back into the room. She was a serious, matronly woman, all hard angles and expression lines. She checked the tubes with a frown and then reached over to pull the Princesses' lower lip down to peer at her gums.

"Her colour is coming back," she informed them. "I think we can stop the transfusion."

As she disconnected the tubing and gently removed the syringes from the women's arms, she told them firmly that the Princess must be allowed to rest for the night, and that she would likely not wake until morning.

"You can all leave now," she told them pointedly, not in the least cowed by their titles or positions.

As they left, Ahamo nudged Cain with an elbow. "Subtle she is not."

Giving DG one last look to reassure himself that she wasn't going anywhere, Cain left the infirmary and prepared for a long, sleepless night. He wanted to have a full report for the Queen in the morning, and to do that, he needed to send his men out, and have Jeb lead the intelligence officers out to see what they could get from their connections. He wanted to know who in the hell had orchestrated this whole thing, why, and then he wanted to be there when they hauled the bastards in.

Even as his thoughts drifted to the work ahead, his fingers crept up to rub his chest, directly above his heart. He didn't even notice the gesture until there was a flare of gentle heat, like an someone blowing warm breath on his chest. The feeling was both disturbing and comforting in equal parts.

His thoughts once again strayed to DG, to the look on her face as a dagger suddenly blossomed in her chest, to the wistfulness in her eyes as she tried to say a silent goodbye, and he thought _'I- We almost lost her. She nearly died because I wasn't payin' attention. She nearly died for my mistake'. _

Cain promised himself such a mistake would never be repeated, even if it meant never letting the kid out of his sight again. His mind was determined to repeat the moment over and over again, and a similar loop of memory insinuated itself. He saw Adora and Jeb, being beaten and tortured, while he was helpless to stop it.

His mind was looping the scenes, one after the other.

_Flash- _Adora screaming his name as he is kicked and pummelled, Zero hauling her up by the arm and backhanding her just to see the effect it has on Cain. _Flash- _DG falling to the floor in slow motion, the front of her lovely gown morphing from blue to a grisly purple as blood streams down her chest. _Flash- _Jeb, so much his boy, kicking and biting as he is dragged through the mud, determined to give as good as he got. His young son, who believed if he fought hard enough, he could save his father. _Flash- _DG again, her chest crackling as she struggled for air and-

_'Oh Ozma, no. Please, I can't take anymore.' _

With a heart that felt irreparably damaged, eaten by years of guilt and loss and remorse, Cain sent a silent plea for redemption. He didn't know who he was praying to, and he didn't believe he deserved it, not truly, but even still he prayed for it.

* * *

A/N: The blood transfusion scene was based on the old practices circa the 1850's, wherein the transfusion is done with tubings, needles and syringes. I am by no means an expert on the subject, so any inaccuracies are mine.

I just started my final year of school, and this semester is going to be a fairly heavy workload, so I can't promise weekly updates, but I'll do my best, and if I have the time, I'll try and write multiple chapters at a time for those weeks when I can't write at all (or think about anything but adjournments and advocacy and the rules of evidence, weep for me!).


	4. Starryeyed

A/N: This chapter was frustrating, and thanks be to my beta for helping me turn it into something readable. With my semester already getting heavy, I can't guarantee weekly updates, but I'll try my darnedest, dear readers. Also, I hate to be the author that does this, but with almost 600 hits on this story, I'm a little saddened by the lack of reviews. Just remember, reviews make this author happy, and a happy author is more likely to blow off studying the rules of evidence for writing fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda, not mine. Ho hum.

* * *

DG woke up with a start, legs tangled in rough blankets, and immediately she panicked at the unfamiliar surroundings. She struggled to peer through the ill-light room, and made out several low cots, several large cabinets against the far wall, and areas walled off with curtains that hung from posts in the ceiling. She recognized the palace infirmary in the drab lighting, and she frowned, disconcerted. A peek under the coarse, thin blanket draped over her, she realized she had been dressed in a loose, unflattering threadbare gown that was held together by a few ties in strategic places. So, she was in the infirmary, obviously she had been injured...

When she shifted to a sitting position a sudden pain in her chest blossomed like a living thing, pounding and throbbing in tangible waves, hot and itchy. Her memory swam up from the murky, uncertain depths of her brain and DG pieced together the events that ended up with her laying on a cot and feeling like she had been torn apart and stitched back together again. Which, give or take a few details, she had been. She touched the spot where the knife had penetrated with a hesitant finger, then pressed a little harder on the tender spot when no gaping, gory wound met her touch.

_'Well, I owe Raw a thank you.' _She was faintly awestruck, and tangled skeins of memory made her think of endings, and goodbyes, and she was unimaginably grateful to her friend for bringing her back from the brink. Her last memories before everything faded away had been of suffocating and not being able to draw a breath. And the look of shock on Cain's face. And then everything had gone grey...

_'I nearly died. Dead, as in no more DG. Oh my God.' _The shudders overtook her unbidden, and she fisted a hand in the fabric over her chest, struggling to breathe without sobbing. The fight for air only reminded her of the night's events, which compounded the problem until she was bent over double, hiccupping and gasping. Through the haze of half-shed tears she saw spectres of mercenaries circling her once more, armed with knives that were just waiting to part soft, vulnerable flesh. When she closed her eyes against the sight, whimpering in distress, she saw men falling as she blasted them with the full-force of her magic, and she could _smell_ their skin sear and smoke.

Just when DG thought her heart couldn't beat any harder without beating its way out of her chest, a fragment of memory came back to her.

She remembered summoning her magic, struggling to give Cain a parting gift, unsure of what she was doing. There had been a rending inside of her, but when her magic curled beneath his skin she had felt a strange sense of peace. The memory felt so evocative and powerful that it brought her both a slight measure of calm and a deep sense of confusion. It was enough that she was able to draw a full breath, and the bone-deep shuddering subsided, but when DG opened her eyes, she was still discomfited by the dark and the empty cots awaiting bodies around her. She wanted out of this unknown, foreign place, she wanted to be somewhere familiar and safe.

DG swung her feet over the edge of the cot and planted them on the cold floor and levered herself carefully to her feet. The movement made her head swim slightly, but she shook it off after a moment and resolved to move slowly and carefully. No sense in adding bruises to her list of ailments by getting up close and personal with the floor. Feeling a little naked in her easy-access gown, she decided on taking the thin blanket, and wrapped it around herself. The material itched against the bare skin of her arms, and she wondered at the cruel minds who had decided it prudent to give the infirm and ill blankets that felt like they were woven out of steel wool.

She fumbled her way through the dark, avoiding obstacles she was sure were there just to trip light-headed princesses who were stupid enough to go traipsing around in the dark and made it to the double doors of the infirmary after an embarrassingly long passage of time. DG had her hand on one of the doors, ready to push it open, when she spotted a guard lounging against the wall through the panes of glass that took up half of the infirmary wall. The man was young, short and squat, and luckily, for her, he was busy reading what appeared to be the O.Z.'s answer to Penthouse. A scantily clad woman on the cover of his battered leaflet promised no educational value whatsoever.

DG thought briefly of banging her head off the door in frustration, but decided against it. It would only alert the man to her presence and she'd be forced back into her lumpy cot quickstep.

_'Of course there would be a guard posted. Someone just tried to assassinate you, they aren't going to leave you alone. Like, ever again.' _

Unable to bear the thought of passing the hours until morning alone in the dark of the infirmary, where shadows gathered and brought dark thoughts and unbidden images, DG knew she had to find a way past the young guard.

DG bit her lip and decided on a wild impulse to attempt something Tutor had stringently warned her was out of her level of experience. She closed her eyes and dipped into the pool of her magic, which she always imagined laid somewhere deep in her belly, like a well, and which was frighteningly low after her earlier firework display, and pulled a fine thread of it out and imagined weaving it in and around her skin, like a fine net. As she wove, DG chanted in her head, repeating the same words over and over again, _'Don't notice me, don't notice me, please God, keep reading your skin mag and don't notice me'. _

After several long moments, and one staggering moment of dizziness, DG opened her eyes and stared at the glass wall. Her reflection was only noticeable as a faint outline, and only truly visible because she knew what she was looking for. Feeling a static bolt of pride, DG gave in and performed a little jig of accomplishment, stopping only when her chest gave a twinge of hot protest to the energetic movement. Tutor be damned. Experience be damned. She was a magic-working mofo.

DG still had to contend with the door, but she opened it centimetre by painful centimetre, and prayed all the while it wouldn't squeak, or her guard wouldn't catch the movement and start screaming about ghost doors. With a wildly beating heart, DG managed to push the door open enough to squeeze her small frame through, and she repeated the process in closing it, all without drawing the man's attention.

_'Either that is one shitty guard, or one raunchy magazine.' _DG thought uncharitably.

Holding the blanket around her, DG wandered the halls of the palace, noting that in the middle of the night, it was an entirely different place. She decided she didn't like it. It had a propensity for eerie shadows and the small lamps spaced too far apart cast unnerving silhouettes on the walls. When she shuffled past a lamp that flickered and dimmed as the bulb died, she was suddenly thrown back to red light cast by a flare, and of a hall rendered in black and crimson and her panic was back in full force. Without meaning to, DG began to walk faster, and before long she was engaged in a full-on sprint down the halls.

Without realizing it, DG's feet carried her to the safest place she could think of.

* * *

Cain woke suddenly and unnaturally, and immediately he dove for the revolver underneath his pillow. The sound of the hammer being drawn back is impossibly loud in the darkness of the bedroom the Queen has allocated him for when he has business at the palace.

"Please don't tell me you have a gun pointed at me right now..." came the wry admonishment from the foot of his bed.

"I have a gun pointed at the person who broke into my room. My locked room." Cain shot back, grumpily, and fumbled to turn on his bedside lamp. They both blinked in the sudden light.

"Magic has led me to a life of crime," DG informed him sarcastically, but he noted her voice was trembling slightly, and she was wrapped in a worn blanket that she clutched around her like a life-line.

He remembered her as he last saw her, pale and just this side of living and he is immediately halfway out of the bed, concern zinging through his body like a current. "What's wrong kiddo?" he asked her gently, keeping his voice even and soft, even though he was far from calm.

DG fidgeted with the hideous woven blanket, picking at a particularly threadbare spot with a fingernail. "I don't know why I'm here. I just... This is where I ended up. I didn't want to wake you, but-."

Cain was in front of her before he made the conscious effort to move, and he cupped her face gently and forced her to look at him. "Kiddo? I want you to come to me when somethin's wrong. Always," he told her firmly, leaving no room for an argument.

With a shaky sigh, DG pressed into his touch as if she wasn't aware she was doing it and her eyes drifted closed. "I woke up alone, and then it all came whooshing back to me, like a tidal wave. I saw the fighting, I saw men I hurt, I saw the knife... But not just in my head, Cain!" She whispered frantically, and squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to make eye contact.

"You saw 'em with your eyes open too, huh?" Cain asked, not even waiting for her nod of acknowledgement before continuing. "Well, you can stop worryin' that you've gone crazy. You were in a war zone tonight, and shock does strange things to a person. I know."

DG made a soft, inquisitive noise, moving her face against his hand unconsciously. He responded and traced soft circles against her jaw and cheek with a calloused thumb. "I've nearly died a time or two myself, y'know. I'm familiar with the side effects. I wanted to be there when you woke up, so you wouldn't be alone, but that harpy who runs the infirmary told me you'd sleep through the night and chased me off."

Eyes finally opening, DG regarded him with mirth. "A little old nurse scared you off? You? The Great Wyatt freakin' Cain?"

Hiding his pleasure at her name for him in a mock growl, Cain dropped his hands to her shoulders as his amusement faded and something dark and heavy bubbled in his gut. "Not so great after all. I nearly got you killed," he disagreed, his back tensing under the weight of memory.

DG tensed as well, and he watched her blue eyes light up fiercely. She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Hey, no! You don't get to do that!"

Confused, Cain looked from her finger on his chest to the girl in front of him. "Do what?"

Throwing up her hands in exasperation and losing her blanket in the process, she did a fair impersonation of his growl. "Do the broody, guilt-ridden thing. I won't have it! You didn't 'almost get me killed'! You saved my life! You protected me, you big jerk!"

Blinking in the face of her tirade, Cain opened his mouth to argue her logic, but quickly rerouted his plan when he noticed her sway and rebalance herself quickly. "You're exhausted. You need sleep. We can fight about this later."

DG bit her lip and gave him a plaintive look. "I- I don't want to be alone," she admitted ruefully, her voice so quiet he had to lean in to hear her.

Regarding her for a long moment, Cain gave into the urge to touch her, as if reassuring himself she was alive and well. He brushed his fingers across her brow and then his fingers dropped to hover over the spot he had seen knit whole before his eyes. "Then stay here."

She gaped at him for a beat, then she gave a small, crooked grin. "If you were anyone else, I'd worry about your intentions, Mr. Cain."

Cain was horrified to find himself flushing, and it only got worse when his brain chose that moment to point out that she was in a wholly scandalous medical gown with only two ties between her and the world, and that only made her laugh brightly. "I just meant-."

She cut him off, obviously struggling to quell her vibrant laughter. "I know what you meant."

"I can sleep on the couch," he pointed toward the window seat. " Over there, and you can have the bed."

"Ah, so proper. I'm not stealing your bed, Cain. It's big enough for two of us, with plenty of extra room for a barrier between us," she protested with a yawn, covering her mouth primly with a pale hand.

"I don't mind the couch."

"Shut up, Cain. Argue it in the morning," she ordered firmly.

He sighed and moved to his side of the bed, and she followed his lead, crawling under the covers with heavy, fatigued movements. When they were both settled (and indeed, there was a suitable barrier of space between them, and why was he somewhat disappointed?), Cain reached over to turn off the lamp. He laid there a long time, not remotely sleepy anymore, and tried not to do the 'broody, guilt-ridden thing'. He decided after several minutes that he wasn't very good at it and gave a heavy sigh and shifted to his side.

Cain found himself calmed by DG's even breathing, and he let his eyes drift closed while he concentrated on the soothing, rhythmic sound. He was surprised when she suddenly rolled over to face his back.

"Cain, is there a god here? Or gods? Like, organized religion?" She asked him, sounding pensive.

Frowning in puzzlement, Cain reversed his position so he was facing her. He could see the outline of her face in the moonlight from the large, sunken window, picking out the curve of her cheek in blue. "I guess. Not many people hold true to that sorta thing 'round the O.Z. anymore. They've started worshipping technology and science more than any shadowy notion of gods," he explained slowly, wondering where this line of thought had come from.

DG pondered that for a moment. "But there were gods? Who were they?"

Cain shrugged gracelessly. "I don't know much, most of it's the stuff of the Ancients. I don't know what their real names were. We call them the Light and the Dark."

DG fidgeted and made a soft humming noise in the back of her throat. "Like the prophecy? The song? One drawn to light, the other to dark?"

"That'd be it. Why'd you want to know?"

She was silent for a long time before she answered. "I.. don't know. It just popped into my head. Just curious I guess."

_'She almost died, of course she wants to know about gods, about what comes after,' _Cain thought, but decided not to voice it aloud.

"G'night, Cain," she breathed, her voice thick and heavy with sleep.

"Goodnight, Kid."

Cain let himself be lulled to sleep by DG's soft breaths at his side, and was comforted by the warmth at his side, even they were at least two hand-spans apart for propriety's sake. This felt right, he decided, drifting at the border between sleeping and waking. He didn't have to worry about the kid when she was within arm's reach, and he found he didn't much feel like worrying about anything else, either. Something in his chest loosened and uncoiled with DG sleeping safe, vital and alive, by his side, where he could watch over her.

_'After all, someone has to look after the kid. She attracts trouble like she's advertisin'. I don't see anyone else volunteerin'.' _

Satisfied, Cain joined DG in sleep, his mind set.

* * *

_DG was dreaming. She knew this because she was in a vast vista of grey nothingness. There were no landmarks, no distinctive shapes, and every time she spun, trying to catch a glimpse of something remarkable in the nothing, she only succeeded in making herself dizzy and off-balance. She wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip, deciding her subconscious had gotten lazy. Who dreams of nothing? Sheer nothing? It was like she was settled in a cosmic waiting place, hanging out until the real dream began. She didn't like it. The lack of any features to act as a touchstone, she felt a very real dread begin to build in the pit of her stomach. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms, the sensation so vivid she was sure it translated to real life. _

_Finally, she'd had enough, as the fear built up like a bubble in her belly. "Hey! I want out!" She screamed into the void. _

_And then, as if in response the vista was changing, twisting and contorting, until shapes and colours formed in the void, grass springing up beneath her bare feet, trees growing from seedlings in the span of seconds before her eyes to towering, majestic oaks. Sky swirled down from nothing, a dusky gray like pre-dawn or dusk, and stars blinked to life like an orchestrated magic show. _

_When the scene resolved itself, DG was standing in a clearing, under the shadow of the trees at her back. The remaining elements sprung to life, like an artist shading in the finer details; tiny white flowers spotted in the grass, moss and lichen on tree trunks, vivid green fern and finer colours that made the world seem real. As DG watched, two figures winked into existence at the center of the clearing. They were pale, long-limbed, and even though they didn't look remotely similar on a surface level, something in their bearing marked them a set, like siblings, or something more. They were also achingly beautiful. He- tall and slender, but firm with muscle, tow-headed with a heart-rending smile. His eyes, piercing even at a distance, were a remarkable green. She- willowy and graceful, serious but for twinkling eyes a shade of blue not far to DG's own, her hair a silken tumble of black curls. _

_The scene changed, and now DG was further in the woods, watching as the man darted past her, weaving his way around the trees deftly. His laughter, rich and wicked with fierce joy, rang through the forest around them. The woman tore past DG, nearly brushing up against her, not seeing her, in hot pursuit. Once, when She nearly caught Him, the man flicked a hand and a massive oak upended, crashing into the woman's path, nearly crushing her, forcing her to quickly change course. _

_'You cheat!' She cried accusingly, speaking something that wasn't even close to English, it was heavy and thick, but DG understood the words all the same. _

_'Always,' he agreed easily, smiling over his shoulder at her with wicked mischief. The man drew ahead of His pursuer, and suddenly altered His path. _

_'My Half, watch me!' He yelled back to Her, suddenly leaping up, impossibly high, to snatch a low-flying kestrel. As He gracefully tumbled to the forest floor, He held His prize aloft, face beaming with a child-like pride. _

_'Very good,' She agreed. 'Now let it free.' _

_'No, it is mine. I shall do with it as I please.' He told Her, eyes narrowing. _

_As DG and the woman watched, He snapped the bird's wing smoothly between his long fingers and the bird let out a horrid noise of pain and distress. DG shoved her finger to her mouth, pressing them to her lips in horror. The woman cried out and raised a hand, pleading. _

_'My Half, stop!'_

_'No.' Crack, snap. Another high keening noise. _

_'I don't want to watch anymore,' DG thought, sickened. _

_'Then give it to me. A gift! Please,' She begged, eyes shining bright with tears. She lifted her hands and cupped them entreatingly. _

_'You want it?' He asked, eyes lighting up. _

_'Yes!'_

_He gave a radiant smile and with a twist of his hand, too fast to follow, he wrenched the bird's head off. He dropped the small, wretched body to the ground as She let out a horrified cry and He wiped the blood off on His thighs. His face went blank and shuttered as He regarded Her. _

_'You should want only me,' He told Her darkly, spinning on His heel as He walked away from Her. _

_The scene darkened as She tentatively walked over to the dead bird, standing above it with Her face twisted with soft grief. _

_The vista twisted and resolved itself until DG was standing should to shoulder with the woman, the two of them alone and overlooking a huge, lush valley. They stood, toeing the edge of a cliff and vertigo made DG dizzy, but she didn't move back. She was resolute, she would watch this story unfold. _

_The woman at her side cupped Her hands to Her breast, Her eyes falling shut, and She began to glow. The light beneath Her skin grew brighter and brighter until DG's eyes burned, and tears streamed down her face. It was like staring directly into the sun. Finally the woman pulled Her hands away from Her chest, and the light collected like liquid sunshine in Her palms. Looking into Her cupped hands, DG watched Her smile for the first time and nearly wept with it, it was hauntingly lovely. It was every smile a mother had ever smiled, upon seeing their new child for the first time. It made DG ache, even as she grinned to see it. _

_As She moved to let the light gathered in Her palms escape, suddenly He was behind Her. He wrapped His longs arms around Her, gripping Her wrists, and pure darkness, inky and thick, poured out from His hands and swirled into Her light, insinuating itself at the heart of Her creation. She gave a cry of pure shock as He broke Her hands apart and their combined creation shattered into infinite pieces, motes of light and dark sparking off into the valley below, falling like stars. _

_'NO!' She screamed, ragged denial in Her voice as She scrambled to try and recapture individual fragments of life. _

_'You musn't be selfish, my Half. There cannot be Light without the Dark,' He told Her, enfolding Her in His arms and trapping Her with bruising force. 'Now watch our children.'_

_Dropping Her head, She drew Herself small in His arms and watched what They had set in motion unfold. And DG watched, unseen and an intruder beside the two most powerful beings in what would become the O.Z., as the world as she knew it began. When that world began to tremble and shatter, dissolving around her, DG screamed and dropped to her knees in panic. _


	5. All the Waiting

A/N: Longest chapter yet! Author has to start getting ready to do a mock adjournment (wish me luck!), so quickly, thanks for all the reviews guys, seriously. Also, this chapter was unbeta'ed because I was simply too lazy to use DocX. Any mistakes are mine. Remember to review!

Disclaimer: Not. Mine.

* * *

It was with the sound of the world falling apart ringing in her ears that DG woke up with a gasp, tears streaming down her cheeks. Frustrated, she rubbed her cheeks dry with the backs of her hands and looked to Cain's side of the bed, which was rumpled but vacant. She was glad the tin man wasn't there to witness her hysterics. She wondered if she had disturbed him in the night with her dreams, and fervently hoped not.

_'What in the hell was THAT?' _She wondered silently, heart still hammering in her chest. In the morning light, laying alone in Cain's bed, with the sound of the shower running in the background, it was tempting to shake the dream off, dismiss it as an overactive subconscious. A crazy, vivid REM cycle and nothing more. But DG knew right down to her core that it hadn't simply been a dream.

_'So, play it back for me. You dreamt the beginning of the O.Z.? How is that possible?' _DG groaned and threw herself back into the mattress, tugging the blankets up and over her head.

She remained like that, head reeling as she struggled with disturbing images alternating between play, fast forward and rewind, troubled by the pieces of the puzzle she didn't have, until the shower shut off. She listened to the sounds of Cain rummaging around in the bathroom, finishing his morning routine. A few minutes later, the sound of the bedroom door quietly being opened alerted her to the fact that Cain had re-entered and wasn't sure if she was still sleeping.

"You can get dressed, you know," DG told him, or more accurately, the covers over her face, her voice muffled by the layers. "I won't peek."

Cain made a disbelieving noise and she heard him toss his wet towel in the hamper by his wardrobe. "I dressed in the bathroom, I didn't want to risk traumatizin' you."

DG snorted and rolled her eyes, tugging the blankets off her face and regarding him in the soft light of the morning. "What time is it?"

"Early still," he replied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "How's the chest, kiddo?" He tapped on his own chest as if he needed to clarify his question.

DG paused to do an inventory check before answering him. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her back, wincing as her chest gave a short twinge of protest. "Still a little sore, but nothing dramatic."

He sighed and watched her with an unreadable gaze. "We had a close call last night, huh?"

DG ran her fingers through sleep-tousled curls, not liking the light in his eyes one bit.

"Mm," she replied non-commitally.

"It shouldn't have happened. Period. There were a lot of mistakes and failures in security, a lot of bad calls. And I've been thinkin'-."

She interrupted his train of thought. "What, all night?"

Cain groaned. "No, since I woke up."

DG pounced on that. "When did you wake up?"

"Awhile ago, stop interrupting," he growled. "So I was _thinkin'_, you need a guard and-."

"Oh God! That reminds me! They've probably turned the whole Palace upside-down by now, after my Great Escape last night," DG interrupted again, wincing at the thought of the probable repercussions of her disappearance from the infirmary.

"Stop tryin' to distract me kid!" he told her, exasperated, before her words penetrated. "Wait- What? You didn't let the Guard know you were leavin'? You wandered here all by your lonesome?" Cain asked, volume rising as his temper frayed.

"You think they would have let me waltz on out? No, I used a little hocus pocus. In fact, I was kind of impressive," she informed him proudly.

"Ozma, kid! They're liable to be tearing this place apart brick-by-brick, lookin' for you! and after last night's attack, the entire guard is probably out!" Cain was just this side of yelling and DG sunk lower into the bed in the face of his disapproval. He looked like he was working his way up to a raging apoplexy.

"Umm?"

"How do you always find trouble?" He inquired, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

_'So now would not be a good time to bring up dream telepathy,' _DG concluded.

"Just lucky, I guess?"

"We have to go to the Captain of the Guard and explain all of this," Cain snarled, running a hand through his short hair.

"Great!" DG agreed, confusing the man. "You do that, I have to go talk to Az. Do you have clothes I can borrow?"

Cain regarded her, dead pan. "You aren't comin' with me to explain your vanishing act? You want me to convince everyone you're safe and sound, _without_ you?"

"Exactly! I'll leave the finer details to you. Clothes?" She reminded him, smiling brightly.

Cain stared at her with a look of exasperated disbelief before he got up and stalked over to his dresser, rummaging through it with more violence than was strictly necessary, before tossing her a long-sleeved blue dress shirt. DG caught the garment as it fluttered through the air.

"I don't have any pants that will fit you," he muttered, turning his back to her, chivalrous as always.

DG hopped out of the bed, divesting herself of the god-awful infirmary gown gratefully, and yanking the shirt over her head after un-buttoning the top two buttons so she could slide it over her head. She re-buttoned it and regarded the shirt for a moment and then shrugged. It was over-sized on her small frame and hung nearly to her knees. "If you lend me a belt, I'll pretend it's a dress."

Cain slid open the top drawer and searched blindly with a hand before pulling out a wide brown belt and holding it out, back still turned to her. DG walked over and plucked it from his hands, winding it around her hips and cinching it as tight as it would go. She shimmied her hips experimentally to ensure it wouldn't slip off and then turned back to the tin man. "I'm decent."

He warily swung his head back to study her as if she was trying to trick him into seeing her in the buff, and when he was reassured she was, in fact, dressed, he pivoted to face her. "Now are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"No," she said, cutting off his protest with a placating hand. "I will tell you later, I promise, but I need a few details first."

Cain folded his arms over his chest and gave her his best 'displeased' look before relenting. "Fine, on two conditions; one, you go straight to you sister, no detours. Two, you go to the infirmary immediately afterwards. This is non-negotiable."

DG nodded fervently, surprised he was giving in this quickly. "Scout's honour."

He quirked an eyebrow at her turn of phrase but apparently decoded it as Otherside speak for 'yes!'.

"Now I have to go deal with the Captain of the guard, the Queen, and mount an exhaustive effort into the attack. Alone. Simultaneously."

"You're a prince among men," she informed him, scooping up the discarded gown and bouncing up to him to press a light kiss to his cheek, raised up on her tiptoes. When she pulled back, she caught sight of the faint blush spreading across his face at the unexpected assault, but she didn't have time to tease him about it right now.

_'Later,' _she promised herself.

"Gotta run!" DG nearly bolted from the room, her mind once again on her dreams, and she barely caught his yell as she cleared the common room in record time and opened the door to the hall.

"No detours!"

"Yessir!" She called back smartly, and closed the door firmly behind her. Jogging through the halls and up the several sets of spiralling staircases, her chest aching uncomfortably at the sudden cardio, DG noted wryly that princesses shouldn't spring through hallways in nothing but a man's dress shirt, carrying an infirmary gown, if they didn't want strange looks from chambermaids.

She made it to Azkadellia's set of suites, on the same floor as her own, in record time from Cain's guest rooms, where he roomed when he visited the Palace. His own apartment was in Central City. DG took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart before she pressed the bell to announce herself, listening to the resulting chimes pleasantly tinkling from inside the suite. She absently fingered the small scar that marred her unblemished chest through the shirt as she waited for her sister to answer the door, realizing with a grimace that she was most likely waking her. Azkadellia finally opened the door, swathed in a white silk robe, taking a moment to look over DG's strange choice of attire before she wrapped her fingers around DG's wrist and gently tugged her into the entrance room. DG kicked the door closed behind her as Az pulled her into an urgent embrace, winding her arms around her and burying her face in the crown of DG's head.

"DG! Oh my sister, are you alright?" She asked with worry.

DG gave her sister a grateful squeeze and revelled in the feeling of warmth. Missing over a decade of these from her sister did that. After a beat, she gently withdrew from the embrace and gave Azkadellia a firm nod. "I'm okay, Az," she reassured her. "Now, tell me everything you know about the Light and the Dark."

Azkadellia gave her a strange look and then pressed the inside of her wrist to DG's forehead to check her temperature. "Are you running a fever? I'm concerned, and not only because you're wearing a man's shirt as a dress."

"No, no. Az, I really need to know about this, it's important."

"Why? DG, from what I heard, you nearly died last night!" Her sister protested, fingers dropping to hover over DG's chest, remarkably accurate as to where she had been injured.

Knowing she wouldn't get far by bullying the information from the older girl until she reassured her she was indeed alright, DG sighed and popped open a few buttons in order to pull the shirt to the side and bare the small pink scar. "See? Alright."

Azkadellia studied the scar with a morose face and then encircled DG's hand in her own and guided her to an overstuffed couch and gestured for her to sit down. DG hovered for a moment, anxious, before dropping herself into the cushion. Azkadellia was a little more graceful in sitting, and she faced DG, bumping their knees together to keep contact and still holding her hand.

"This is all I know," Az started, examining DG's face. "In the beginning, there was the Light and the Dark. They were lovers, I think, and they roamed the world, alone with the beasts and the trees. And for some unfathomable reason, they created man, and because one cannot exist without the other, man was made from both Light and Dark. It is up to us to decide which to pursue."

DG listened, enraptured, and brought her knees to her chest, digging her bare feet into the cushion as her sister laid out the story. Azkadellia chewed on her lip as she struggled to remember what she knew of the story.

"And because they were too beautiful to look upon, and because they were powerful, we called them gods. There were temples and shrines built for them in all corners of the O.Z., but then one day the Light disappeared. No one knows why, or where. For a long time, Dark reigned, and it was an awful time. Brutal and bloody wars ensued. And then the Dark disappeared, and some think he followed the Light. And that was that. It's been thousands of years since, and we have mostly forgotten them. The only reason we still know is through the stories of the Ancients. That's all I know, DG."

"So the Light is good and the Dark is evil? Or something along those lines?" DG asked, thinking that it wasn't much different from the concept of Heaven and Hell, good versus evil dogma she knew from the Otherside.

"It's not as simple as that, I don't think. I think they both have certain elements that are in their nature, but I don't think you can necessarily simplify it that way," Az mused, looking thoughtful. "Not everything is black and white, there are shades of grey. But I've told you all I remember."

DG tried not to let her frustration show on her face. She hadn't learned as much as she had wanted to know, just that the gods had disappeared from the O.Z. more than a millenia before. She squeezed Azkadellia's hand gratefully and prepared a back-up plan. She needed information, ammunition. She wasn't going into the next dream, if there was one, unprepared.

"There would be books on this in the Palace Library, wouldn't there?" she asked Azkadellia slowly and thoughtfully, for confirmation.

"There would be.. but unless you can translate the symbols of the Ancients, they won't be much use to you," Az ruminated, tugging absently on a strand of her long hair.

DG's mind back-pedalled to a cave, many year ago, and she tried not to let the memory go further and of the repercussions and horrors that had come from that cave. Nor what had been unleashed. "No," she murmured thoughtfully. "but _you _can. At least enough for my purposed. You translated the story of the witch in the cave."

Az's eyes flashed with renewed horror at the mention of the witch and her hand on DG's spasmed involuntarily, gripper her tightly. DG mentally kicked herself and pulled her sister into a tight embrace. "Az, I'm sorry! I'm an idiot, I shouldn't have brought that up."

Azkadellia shifted in the confines of DG's arms and wiped at her face. "No, it's alright. I'm tired of everyone walking on eggshells around me, afraid to mention _anything_ on the off-chance it sets me off," she whispered into DG's shoulder, sounding hoarse. "Anyways, you're right, I still remember enough from 'Dead Languages' lessons to at least roughly translate. But I won't help until you tell me why this is so important to you, or why you go pale when you speak of it."

DG sighed and disentangled herself from her sister enough to look her in the eyes. To her credit, Azkadellia's gaze was already mostly clear, and her sister regarded her somberly. "I'm pretty sure the gods are trying to communicate with me. In dreams," she told her, wincing at how insane that sounded spoken aloud in the light of day.

"The Light and the Dark are speaking to you in dreams?" Az asked, voice carefully devoid of inflection.

DG shrugged, bowing her head. "I'm aware that I sound like a lunatic. And they aren't speaking to me, per se, but they're showing me things."

Her sister studied her for a long moment, with a serious look in her eye. Just when DG started to become agitated under the scrutiny, convinced her sister was going to have her committed, Azkadellia spoke. "Yes, you sound insane. But consider your audience. I spent a lot of time feeling like I was going mad as well," Az explained, patting DG's hand reassuringly. "For the record, I believe you. That's what frightens me. It can't mean good things when the gods intrude on your dreams."

DG let out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding and slumped back into the couch cushions, relieved. "Thank you. And I'm a little scared myself. I woke up before I got the moral of the story, and I don't know why I'm being shown these things," DG told her, grateful for her sister's unexpected vote of confidence. It made her feel a damn sight less like a crazy person, and more confident that she could do whatever it was she needed to do to figure out why long-absent immortals were messing around in her grey matter. And how to stop them, if necessary.

"Well, let's arm ourselves with knowledge before you sleep next."

DG smiled at the note of protectiveness in her sister's voice, and was glad she was on-board with her plan, as half-assed as it was.

"'Cause knowledge is power!" DG quoted with a solemn air.

"Profound, DG," Azkadellia noted wryly. "I suppose I should get dressed so we can spend the day amongst dry, dusty tomes and equally ancient scholars."

DG snorted and sat up fully. "The only hitch in that plan is that I promised Cain that I would go immediately to the infirmary after I spoke to you. 'No detours'," she quoted, gesturing with her fingers and rolling her eyes.

"Since when does a princess take orders from the Captain of the Tin Men? And more specifically, since when do you take orders from Cain?" Azkadellia asked haughtily, throwing her hair over her shoulder and giving DG an inquisitorial look.

'_Since I slept in his bed would probably just create more questions,' _DG thought, smothering her grin behind her hand. To her sister she offered only a shrug.

"Well, I assume his orders did not extend to _staying_ in the infirmary?" She asked, clapping her hand when DG shook her head. "Excellent! Then I'll get dressed quickly and we'll make an appearance at the infirmary before we go to the library. We'll get the Healer to examine you as well."

DG liked the sound of this plan, although she had her doubts on how 'quickly' Az could get dressed, considering most days she enlisted the aid of a Royal handmaid just to get bound into her undergarments.

In the end, however, Azkadellia managed to keep her preparations under an hour, and emerged from her bedrooms with hair that was still damp, plaited it into a long braid, and dressed in a simple silky grey blouse and a long, creamy, leather skirt with pearl buttons that ran all the way down the front. She had foregone most makeup, but still managed to look more put together than DG on the best of days. Tucked under her arm were several garments that she placed on the low chest that acted as a coffee table in the center of the seating area.

"You can't go traipsing around in this place looking like a woman of the night, darling sister. That much leg is positively indecent, although I admire your courage," she chided, struggling not to grin.

DG shrugged and retrieved the bundle, thinking her sister would be scandalized by some of the fashions of the Otherside, booty shorts came to mind, but decided not to educate her. She sorted through the clothing with some trepidation, afraid Az was going to use this chance to dress her in something more befitting her station, but was pleasantly surprised that she had chosen a pair of suede trousers in a rich brown and a deep purple short-sleeved blouse with a bit of lace ruffling that cut down the front in an asymmetrical line. It wasn't necessarily something she'd pick for herself, but it was elegant and simple enough that she would feel relatively comfortable.

"Are you sure this will fit me? You're more.. uh," DG cupped her hands in front of her chest in a slightly lewd gesture. "Blessed than I am."

Az pinched the bridge of her nose. "You did not just do that. Yes, it will fit, the shirt is a relic from before I was _blessed_."

DG snickered and picked up the pile, briefly leaving the room to change in Azkadellia's powder room, which had two full-length mirrors as well as one mirror on a long, moveable arm that magnified. She was agog at all the jars of powders and creams and perfumes, the intricate, fanciful containers for countless makeup supplies. The girl had a whole room devoted to what DG could fit in her pocket. If it was anyone else, DG would declare them vain and superficial, but it was Azkadellia, and DG suspected it had more to do with hiding behind layers, trying to pretend she was someone else, than vanity. She took a moment to check out her reflection before she left the intimidating parlour, and admired the tailored fit of the trousers, and the blouse that did in fact fit. In fact, it flattered her slender frame by adding volume and tucks in strategic places. DG gave her mirror-self a thumbs up and left the room.

"Alright pretty lady, let's go," she declared, linking her arm with her sister's and leading her to the door.

She and Azkadellia made their way to the infirmary, with DG smartly saluting every person they passed just to make Azkadellia laugh, and delighting in their confusion as they struggled to figure out how to react properly. Eventually, Az made her stop on the grounds that it was cruel to confuse the stewards, and also, her sides were starting to hurt from laughter. When they turned the final corner to the infirmary hall, DG caught sight of the group obviously awaiting her and swallowed thickly. She hummed the funeral march in her head as Az slowed their pace.

The Healer and several guards were all at strategic posts outside the infirmary doors, and none looked too pleased.

Azkadellia inclined her head to DG slightly. "Alright, I'm going to try and start a line of dialogue here, but it doesn't look good. If I can't convince them to let you go with just a check-up, then I'll go to the library on my own and bring back what books I can, okay?"

DG murmured an assent, and the sisters stopped their approach well out of arm's reach of the Healer, in case it got ugly. The Healer looked pissed.

"You! This is why I hate healing royalty," the Healer snarled, raising her index finger and gesturing at DG with it. "They get it in their heads that the normal rules don't apply to them. What in the gods' names possessed you to go a-wandering when you just put your body through major trauma?"

DG opened her mouth to defend herself when the Healer cut her off with a sharp hand cutting through the air.

"A healing like you had takes a lot out of a person. Viewer's accelerate the body's own natural healing, and it wreaks havoc on your system. It's hell on the body, you're lucky you haven't hit the floor by now Princess."

Azkadellia stepped forward and addressed the raging Healer with deference. "Madam Healer, my sister made an error in judgment, this is true, but I'm sure she's learned her lesson. And she seems to be doing well enough. Perhaps you could examine her, and see if she's healed enough to leave the infirmary. She would prefer to rest in her own rooms, as you can surely understand."

The Healer folded her arms over her flat chest, contorting her skeletal body into sheer angles of disapproval. "That is not how this works, Princess. The Heir needs at least another full day's rest before I will let her out of my sight. _Again. _Especially since Her Majesty came down to personally tear my whole staff a new one over the Princess' _error in judgment._"

Az's eyes narrowed at the tone the Healer was taking, and seemingly decided politeness was not working, and switched tactics. In a moment, she had switched into full Princess mode, and her whole bearing dictated her royal upbringing and carriage. "We are aware the Princess needs to rest, however I am sure she could do just that in her own suite."

"Staring me down isn't going to change my mind, Princess Azkadellia. Neither is intimidation. I was here since your mother was a Princess, and I treated you when you got croup when you were just a babe. I'm a Healer, I will do what is best for my patients," the Healer rebuked her coolly, matching Azkadellia's glare as good as she got.

DG fidgeted uncomfortably as the two glared at each other stubbornly, neither one willing to budge. After the tension grew to a suffocating, palpable thing in the air, DG finally relented. "It's fine, I'll stay. But I'm wearing my own clothes. Also, I want a blanket that doesn't give me hives. These are my demands."

Azkadellia muttered something under her breath as the Healer smirked, and she turned to DG, opened her mouth to say something, shut it with a shake of her head and stalked off down the hall. DG let the Healer lead her back into the infirmary with an inner sigh, noting that the guard from the previous night was not among the entourage who remained outside the double doors, and she sat on an examination table as the Healer took her vitals and checked her scar for infection. She ahh'ed in the right spot when the woman depressed her tongue, gagging on the stick a little, and prayed that Azkadellia would regain her temper enough to be a viable partner in their plan.

Before long she was whisked into a new bed, this one a slight improvement on the cot from the previous night in that she couldn't count each of the vertebrae in her back when she laid on it, by the long row of windows. Her blanket was switched out for a softer, much-loved quilt, and she fingered the edges as she tried to settle herself down. DG was unbelievably reluctant to rest when she had so much she wanted to do, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it, so she propped herself up on her pillow and mentally tried to keep track of time passing.

Around mid-afternoon, as DG's mind began to warp from boredom and after she had concocted fourteen and three-quarter ways to escape to the library, Glitch shocked her out of her reveries by pulling a chair next to her bed and neatly tucking himself into it. He gave her a beatific smile.

"Heya Princess, going stir crazy yet?" He asked, cocking his head to the side and miming circles with his index finger around his temple.

DG gave him a droll look. "If knowing there are six-hundred and fourty two ceiling tiles in here counts, then I'm pretty much there, yeah."

Glitch gave the ceiling a cursory glance, eyes sliding from one side to the other and then back to her face. "Six-hundred fifty three, actually," he corrected.

DG tried and failed to be surprised at this display of his savant abilities. Most of the time, Glitch seemed to have a road block between synapses, but every one and awhile the old Ambrose shined through, and the more contact he had with his brain, the more and more frequent these moments of lucidity were. DG was afraid that the day he finally had his brain replaced, the day they worked out how to bridge the halves between Glitch and Ambrose, that she would lose her friend forever to the unfathomably brilliant advisor.

"I never said I was good at math," DG rebutted, and sat up fully to face her friend. "You look like a man who kicked some ass recently."

Glitch puffed up proudly, smiling through his split lip and did a mock bow from his chair. "Everyone underestimates a good sense of rhythm until they get their first lesson."

She laughed at that, reminded of the stories Cain had recounted of his first time with Glitch as a dance partner. The look of begrudging awe on the tin man's face as he tried to paint the picture had been priceless. The reminder made her think of the previous night, and she scowled at the memories. However, it brought to mind an idea she had toyed with before, but had never found a reason to bring it up to her friend.

"Glitch, do you think you could teach me how to fight? I'm not much of a dancer, but I think.. I think I'd like to know how to defend myself."

"Well, I suppose it might be a wise idea, considering the festivities we endured. And I'm a good teacher. But I have to ask, why aren't you asking Cain for lessons? He's been formally trained in hand-to-hand combat," Glitch probed, looking puzzled as he absently fingered the zipper marring his scalp.

DG bit her lip. "I think Cain has it set in his head that I shouldn't have to learn to defend myself, that's what the guards are for."

"Guards are not infallible, but I see what he's getting at," Glitch conceded. "But I'll teach you anything you want to know, Princess. I'm at your service."

Leaning halfway out of the bed, DG reached over to grasp Glitch's hand and squeezed it with a grin. "Did anyone ever tell you how freaking fabulous you are?"

Glitch blushed and averted his eyes, lips twitching. "Ah, if only. Now, remind me, why am I fabulous?"

* * *

Cain was rifling through the stack of papers on his borrowed desk, looking through all the intelligence and surveillance files from the past six months, looking for anything that fit with the pattern of the attack, when the knock at the door came. He marked the spot he was at on the current page in front of him by laying his pen on it and looked up.

"Come on in," he called, annoyed at the interruption in his chaotic day, when he was already pressed for time. He had been working his way up from grumpy to a full-blown rage since his meeting with the Queen first thing this morning, which had been painful to say the least. This had better be important, he still planned on getting in a little _chat_ with the guard who had let DG slip past him.

The door opened and a familiar wavy-haired young man strolled in and dropped himself bonelessly into the chair in front of Cain's desk with an ease that only youth could achieve, making Cain envious. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and tugged at the dingy, threadbare shirt he wore.

"So intell is a bust on last night's attack front. If anyone knows who the mercs were, they aren't talking. But I do have another piece of information that might interest you." Jeb said by way of greeting.

Cain sighed and propped his elbows up on the slew of papers on the desk, studying his son. "Hello to you to, Jeb. I'm having an hell of day, thanks for askin'. Is that how you greet your father these days?"

Jeb rolled his eyes with a smirk and lifted his feet while sliding back in his chair, propping them on the corner of the desk. "Hello father, how was your day? I spent mine trudging through the underbelly of Central City, leading my squad, dressed as a panderer, as per your orders. Would you like to hear what I found out?"

Cain noted that Jeb had not lost the derision he held for anyone in a position of authority, even though he himself was now in charge of Palace intelligence, and worked under Cain, leading a group of men he had recruited, hand-picked for their covert abilities and contacts, from his resistance fighters. Cain steepled his fingers and lightly rested his chin on them, giving a nod. "Absolutely, what did you learn?"

Jeb's face suddenly went dark, and the knuckles of his hands turned white where he clenched the chair arms. "There was a break-in at the Neverdale Penitentiary."

Cain furrowed his brow and leaned in closer. "A _break-in_? Who breaks _in_ to a prison?"

Jeb shook his head furiously, pressing his lips into a thin line and regarding Cain for a long moment. He seemed reluctant to speak. "Someone who wants to get at a prisoner," he finally bit out, looking both pensive and enraged.

Puzzled at Jeb's passionate, if conflicting, reaction, Cain raised his head and looked his son dead in the eye, noting absently that his boy had Adora's eyes, and that his forehead crinkled just like his late wife's when he was angry, too. "What's goin' on, Jeb?"

"Someone blew up the east wing, took a sizeable chunk of the wall out, and by the time the guards reached the cells, one of the prisoners had been taken. A prisoner you and I are well acquainted with."

Cain inhaled sharply through his nose and let it out in the form of a string of curses so black they would peel paint. "They freed him? Who?"

Jeb shook his head once more, this time looking frustrated. "I didn't get that many details, and I've discarded what sounds like folks embellishing. There's a lot of gossip going around. But I don't think it was his people, for one, there was a good deal of blood in his cell, and two, there was a knife slash in his mattress."

Unable to sum up the surge of varying emotions running through him, Cain just stared at Jeb for a long moment, sure they were both wearing similar looks of fury. "Ain't this just the goddamn topper to my day."


	6. Gifted

A/N: Just a quickie chapter, still sick, still in school. If you haven't already checked it out, check out my other Tin Man story, Heatwave. I'm kind of proud of it. And review to your heart's content!

Disclaimer: All I own are student debts. You can have those too, if you want.

* * *

Glitch left DG with a hug and a promise extracted from her that she would follow the Healer's orders, and once again, she was left on her own. Having run out of objects to count, DG resigned herself to staring out the window and marking the passage of time by the sun, using her thumbprint on the window to mark the stations as it travelled ever westward. She thought it was around the fourth station, which would make it roughly four p.m. in Otherside time, and judging from the way her belly was contracting, she gauged her guess to be pretty accurate. She still hadn't gotten the archaic way the Ozians used to define time, because although there were clocks, they reminded her more of sundials, and they used stations instead of numbers. Besides, clocks seemed to be a luxury item in the O.Z. and she had only seen a few, including a large one in the Palace's Receiving Room, where her mother held audience.

She heard the heavy doors swing open and craned her head, expecting to see the Healer or one of her assistants coming in to do their hourly check-ins, but instead she was delighted to see Azkadellia coming in, carrying a stack of thick tomes, a put-upon looking steward trailing behind her, carrying an even larger stack that had him slouching under the weight and blocked his line of sight so that he weaved dangerously from side to side, narrowly avoiding obstacles. Once Azkadellia reached DG's bedside, unloading her stack on the table beside it, she helped the steward unload his towering pile and then dismissed him with a quick thanks.

Az waited until the steward was on the right side of the swinging doors before she spoke. "So, as it turns out, there are a lot of books on the Light and the Dark in the library. I could have spent days sifting through them, but my eyes feel like they're encrusted with sand and I got the ones that seemed the most relevant."

DG sat up eagerly and reached for a leather-bound tome on top of one of the piles, pulling the heavy book into her lap with an 'oomph' at the weight. "They let you take all of these out of the library? Some of them look pretty fragile."

Smiling mischievously, Az didn't comment, only began to sift through the pile, searching out a particular book. "Some of these read like recruitment pamphlets, some are devoted to poems or songs, but some of them have some information of the sort you may be looking for," her sister informed her.

DG carefully opened her own book, careful not to bend the crumbling spine or tear the thin, opaque pages. Of course, once opened, the book was of no use to her, as Az had predicted. It was all in foreign symbols DG had no hope of making heads or tails of, but she continued flipping through the pages reverently while Azkadellia studied her own tome. Eventually DG stumbled on an illustration and she let out a little squeak of excitement, waving a hand to get Az's attention. "Look! This is them! This is how I saw them!"

Azkadellia leaned over, peering into DG's lap at the faded illustration, and made an engrossed noise, watching as DG traced the image lightly with a forefinger. "That's how they looked in your dreams?"

"Well, more or less. This is a little rough, and it's in black and white. You can't see that his hair is a white blonde, and that hers is a glossy black. And they both look so serious and posed in this picture. The way I saw them, they were wild, he was always smiling this devastating smile and-" She stopped at the disturbed look Az was giving her. "Anyways, it's like a thousand year old drawing, so the artist deserves a little credit."

"Wow," Az breathed. "I know I said I believed you, but it's still hard to grasp. To hear you speak of them like that..."

"I know, creepy, right?" DG finished for her, feeling the goosebumps on her own arms for the first time. Belief in your own crazy delusions was one thing, but physical proof was another deck of cards altogether. It _was _creepy. She continued to study the image, feeling her stomach drop out, and didn't look up to see Azkadellia's reaction.

"I swear I found a volume that had some pretty detailed information in the library, I thought I put at the top of the stack so I wouldn't misplace it. I thought we could start there, but now I can't find it," her sister groaned with frustration, eying the stack that was half her height deep unhappily.

"Do you remember what it looked like?" DG inquired, setting her tome at her side, intending to go back to it, and to see if it had any more illustrations later. For some reason, she felt a little reluctant to let her sister see the images, as if they were private. Which was patently ridiculous, but she couldn't help the feeling.

"Blue, dark blue. And apparently not at the top of the stack."

After several minutes of searching, pulling out every blue volume they found, before they stumbled upon the specific tome Az was referring to, somehow at the very bottom of the stack of books, and they played a precarious jenga-like game to pull it out. Az pulled it into her lap and skimmed through the pages while DG waited impatiently, on pins and needles. Finally Az halted on a page and read it, murmuring under her breath and sounding out complicated symbols with a wrinkle in her brow.

"Alright, here we go. 'First, there were two. One soul halved, divided between them, cleaved between Light and Dark. They were born for, made for, of? Each other. I'm not sure what this part means exactly," Az explained, irked at her inability to translate word for word. "'Shaped by loving hands and given a world make their own. In the beginning, they found much joy. These were good times. But as time went on..'"

Az paused here, silently reading through the passage and trying to make sense of it. "I'm paraphrasing a bit, it's really flowery prose. 'The Light was disturbed the things the Dark did. He delighted in acts of terrible cruelty, it was His nature, and She knew this, but it disturbed Her,'" her sister stopped again, humming in frustration as she translated. "Hmm, can't translate this part. Skipping ahead a bit. 'She loved Him, as He was Her other half, She also grew frightened by His nature. After a time, the Light found reasons to be apart from Him, never for long, for She also could not stand to leave Him for long, and He would always find Her before She strayed too far. But She grew lonely. It was no longer enough to be two.'"

DG had her fingers pressed into her thigh, digging in until she was sure she had left crescent impressions from her fingernails, she was hanging on every word. She unconsciously leaned closer to her sister and the book, straining to try and see the words Az made out of the strange pictograms on the page, wishing she could read the book herself. She was terrified something was being lost in translation.

"'Eventually, She decided to create. And She created man from her own light, but the Dark added his own gift. And because you cannot un-create life, once it has been created, they birthed the first of men. Her gift to the world was twisted by Him, no light without darkness. Men, shaped by Her fingers, would have the potential for great good, but twisted by His, would also have the capability for unimaginable cruelty.'" Az finished the page, and flipped to the next, but after reading for a moment, she frowned and gave DG a shrug.

"The rest is all about the ambiguity of people and how we must choose which path to take, it's all semantics from here on out," she said with a sigh, and regretfully closed the book, forcing back a yawn.

DG felt a little tired herself, and she hadn't been climbing ladders and digging through the maze that was the immense library. She felt a little badly that her sister had been delegated all the tedious, manual labour, as well as the translating. Here she was lazing in bed while someone else had done all the work for her. "Thank you Az, I really do appreciate everything you've done. Really. You should go get something to eat, go relax. This was more than I expected to get in one day anyways."

"I'm not that fragile, I can stay with you and get a little more research done, DG."

DG shook her head stubbornly, noticing how bleary Azkadellia's eyes were, and as selfish as she wanted to be about her little project, she knew it would do no good to push her sister past exhaustion. A full day in the library followed by exhaustive translating was no easy task, and DG knew it. Better to have her sister refreshed by a full night's sleep and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow, they'd accomplish more that way. "No, I want you to go get a good night's sleep. Don't make me call the Healer."

Az twisted her face unpleasantly and gave DG a reproving look. "You cheat."

The words seemed eerily familiar to DG, and for a moment she shuddered, feeling tugged and pulled into the past, but then it passed and she managed a feeble grin. "I do what I have to."

With a sigh, Azkadellia stood up and leaned over to give DG a gentle hug, pausing for a moment to press a light kiss to her forehead. "Be well, my sister. I think we've both waited long enough to come home, I want us to enjoy it," she said, with a bittersweet smile, and then she left as the sun finally slid beneath the horizon and the infirmary was swept into muted light from the dim lamps.

DG sighed and tucked herself into her bed, feeling fatigued even while her mind was still whirring. She thought of trying to fall asleep early, but the thought of what possibly awaited her in her dreams sent her adrenaline surging, so instead she readjusted her pillow and propped herself against it and the wall until she was in a half-seated position, and then she reached for the tome she had half-hidden in the blankets at her side. It took her a few minutes to find the illustration once more, and she spent a long time tracing her finger gently over the ink, memorizing the lines by touch. A coil of frustration built in her that the image was not as true to life as the dream pair had been, and that the details were lost in translation in the artist's rendering. It was muted where they had been vibrant, crude where they had been pristine and lovely. Her fingers began to itch after awhile, and soon she found herself abandoning the book altogether and she had pulled herself out of bed and trekked to the infirmary doors almost without realizing her intentions. When she pushed the heavy doors open, two guards immediately sprang into action, bowing to her formally at the same time they closed ranks on her so she couldn't slip past them. They obviously had their orders.

"Umm, at ease guys. I was just wondering if someone could bring me a sketchpad and some colouring pencils. Maybe some charcoal?" DG asked affably with a bright smile, wishing internally she could just walk to her room and get her supplies her damn self.

The older of the two, still by rights a young man, possibly only a few years older than herself jumped forward and nodded so fervently she thought his head would snap off his neck. "Absolutely Your Highness, anything the Heir Apparent requires!" He chirped crisply, bowing once again.

"Thanks, that'd be awesome," she told him. "And call me DG, I don't go for the fancy titles."

"Yes, Your Highness," he responded automatically, then winced when he realized his mistake as his companion tried unsuccessfully to hide his laughter in a cough. "Uhh, DG."

DG laughed brightly and thanked the men again before she turned back to the infirmary and made her way back to her bed by the bay windows. She watched the stars come out, still getting the familiar shiver of delight in her belly at how bright and visible they were compared to the Otherside, even after seeing them frequently enough. Stargazing had become one of her favourite past-times, one she often shared with Ahamo, who kept a large collapsible telescope in his office. They'd spent a good many nights in the courtyard or the gardens, sitting on a blanket in the grass and sitting companionably in the quiet, watching the night sky. Neither of them remarked upon it when they saw their first shooting star, because, really, who could wish for anything more fantastic than the O.Z.? It was already the stuff of dreams, and for two slippers from the Otherside, it was more than they could have ever imagined.

A steward interrupted DG's efforts to remember the constellations and their names in the Ozian night sky, clearing his throat politely and giving her a deep bow. In one of his freckled hands he held a thick sheaf of thick paper suitable for sketching on, bound in leather, and in the other was a tin container. She took the supplies off of him with a grin and a thanks, and the redheaded steward had barely turned to leave before she was opening the container and digging through the various pencils and charcoals. She extracted a charcoal pencil and began to chalk out the outline she wanted, and before she knew it, DG was engrossed in drawing a more accurate picture of the Light and the Dark, struggling to capture his mischievous smile, and the warmth in her eyes. DG found it hard to breath as she shaped the pair, lines flowing beneath her fingertips like she was possessed, almost without any guidance from her. All she did was picture them as she had seen them, and the rest flowed like magic.

Her first drawing was of the pair under the moonlight, in the shade of the trees, as she had seen them first. She blended blacks and blues, smudged them together with her pinkie to shade the Light's hair, and carefully sculpting the Dark's long muscles. She used chalk to highlight where the moon edged the two, and roughly filled in the background, not really paying attention to any details but the pair. Almost feverishly, she tore the page out when she had finished with it and moved on to the next blank page, this time carving out the scene where the two had run past her in the forest, using only charcoal and white pencil to paint the scene. DG lost track of time as she completed one sketch after another, and before long she had a chaotic scattering of sketches laying all around her on the bed, and a couple on the floor. She was lost to the images, lost to anything but lines and shades, colours and highlights on the page.

"Kid? What in Ozma's name are you doing? It's full dark out," Cain scolded, frightening her out of her obsessive sketching, disturbingly close to her side without her ever having heard him approach.

DG looked up at the tin man with bleary, strained eyes, realizing that her hands were cramped painfully around the withered piece of charcoal she held, and that she was covered almost to the forearm in an array of coloured dust. Cain looked a little weary himself, but overlaying that was a profound look of concern and surprise as he took in page after page of artwork decorating her corner of the infirmary. "I was... Drawing," she said hoarsely, suddenly feeling completely drained.

"I gathered that much," he retorted dryly, leaning over to pick up a piece of parchment and studying it with furrowed brows. "It's the follow-up I'm interested in."

With hands that suddenly weren't functioning, and that ached from fingertip to wrist, DG gathered up all her pencils and replaced them in their container, scooping up the roaming pages to place them in the front of her sketchpad. She remained mute as Cain studied the piece he had in his fingers, unsure of how to explain. Once he was done examining her artwork, he ran his keen icy blue eyes over the stack of books on her bedside table that had overflowed to the floor and he frowned.

"I think you have some explainin' to do," he rumbled, reluctantly handing her back her missing page when she gestured for it.

Sleep was already overtaking DG, and she struggled to keep her eyes open as she studied the tin man, aware that she would indeed have to explain, but so bone-deep weary that she could barely form a coherent thought. "Could we do it in the morning? I'm not making excuses, but I'm so tired, Cain."

Cain looked her over, and even though his frown deepened he gave an affirmative nod. "Yeah, we can do it in the mornin'. You should have been asleep hours ago, kiddo."

"Agreed," DG said around a yawn, crawling bonelessly under the covers and settling herself into the bed.

"I was just comin' to check on you, I thought you'd be asleep. I guess I'll say goodnight and get goin'."

DG made a faint noise of protest and struggled to sit up. She managed only to slightly rearrange herself on her side, facing him, with a hand reaching out to him pleadingly. "Stay. Just until I fall asleep. It won't take long, promise. 'M sleepy."

Lips quirked slightly, Cain made a big show of looking put out as he folded his long limbs into the chair by her bed and made himself comfortable. "Fine, but only seein' as how you'd probably get all worked up again if I left."

DG stuck her tongue out at him, her maturity level dropping as quickly as her eyelids, but when she snuck her hand out in his direction, there was only a second before his larger, warmer hand enfolded hers and she heard his low, rumbling laughter. With Cain's presence keeping the dark at bay, DG was asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Cain was roused from a dead slumber by a feeling of sheer terror, and a pain in his chest so vibrant and intense it felt white hot. His heart was thundering in his ears and the burning in his chest was so powerful he felt like he had a burning ember lodged behind his breast bone. When Cain scrambled to find the source of the mind-numbing horror streaking through his body like white lightning, he found himself being pulled in one direction, and that direction frightened him even further.

It wasn't his terror he was feeling, it was a foreign thing, emanating from the fiery spot in his chest.

_'DG, oh gods, DG,'_ he thought, not knowing how or why he was sure that the feelings zinging through his body were not his own, or how he was aware that somehow he was experiencing the kid's fear like a living thing within his skin, but he didn't give a damn right then. On the list of things Wyatt Cain knew, the only damn thing was that he had to get to DG, and he had to do it _right now. _

Throwing off the coverlets, Cain threw himself out of the bed, reaching for his gun at the same time and tucking it into the waist of his sleep pants, not bothering to waste time looking for clothes to change into. DG was in danger, DG was terrified, and those thoughts spurred him on almost as much as the fiery pain in his chest did. Cain raced out of his suite, and thudded barefoot down the hall toward the staircase that would lead him to the floor the infirmary was located on. The sound of his feet slapping the marble and wood inlaid floors only made him angry, he wanted to move faster, had to be _faster _damnit. DG's terror coursing through his body was like raw adrenaline, and it only served to make him panic. Cain fought to cut himself off from it, as it only served to make him panic.

_'DG needs you, you old fool. Take a breath and pick up the damn pace!' _

Cain finally made it to the end of the hall, his heart hammering in his chest, and slammed the door to the staircase open hard enough to embed the handle in the adjoining wall. He gave it no notice as he raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time and pulling himself up by the handrail. By the time he made it up the several flights it took to reach the infirmary floor he was breathing hard and there was a stitch forming in his side. He tore down the hall toward the infirmary, and when he nearly crashed into the doors, skidding to a rough stop, he found himself in front of two surprised guards.

"Where in the hell is the Princess?" He yelled hoarsely, unwilling to lose time in getting to the girl who was setting off alarm bells in his chest.

"Captain! Sir! She's sleeping in the infirmary, as you left her. Sir!" The younger of the two barked, saluting him and snapping his heels together like he was in drill formation.

"Like _hell_ she is! Move out of the way," Cain growled, drawing his revolver and preparing to storm into the infirmary.

Misinterpreting his actions, the two guards hastily formed ranks and tried to block his path. Cain made a threatening noise and levelled his revolver at one, then the other. "Get out of my way, or so help me, I'll shoot first and apologize later. The Princess is in danger, and Ozma help you if you keep me from gettin' to her."

"What? Sir, that's not possible, no one's come in or gone out since-" The older guard began, before Cain interrupted him.

"Just _move!_" He shouted, his final thread of sane thinking snapping the longer DG's fear curled in his chest and sang through his body. The guards exchanged a quick look, then both men stepped aside and Cain tore past them and headed for DG's bed in a dead run, managing to avoid hitting something in the dark by pure dumb luck. A few feet from the girl's corner of the sick room, he made out her silhouette sitting stock still in the dark in her bed, right where he had left her.

Cain would have been relieved if not for the terror still curled up in his chest, the fear that was not his own, but hers, and for the near-silent keening noise DG was making. Cain halted his sprint at the last moment, taking the remaining feet at a slower pace so as not to alarm the girl further. When his hip finally bumped into her bed he stopped and did a slow circle, looking for intruders while he sighted the room with his revolver drawn. He almost had a damned heart attack when he caught sight of the two guards at the front of the infirmary, nearly mistaking them for attackers before he realized who they were. Ignoring them completely he tucked his revolver carefully back into his waistband and turned back to DG, who still seemed to have taken no notice of his presence. Instead she was hunched over a large metal box in her lap, her entire body rigid and still making that godsawful sound of pure horror.

"Princess? It's Cain," he murmured softly, soothingly, to her. "What's wrong, kiddo?"

DG didn't respond, she only ducked her head further and her keening ratcheted up a notch. Her hands were white-knuckled where she clutched the box's edges, and her hair was curtaining her face from his view.

"Turn on a light!" Cain called, unable to make out enough by moonlight through the bay window to fully assess the situation.

The overhead lights flickering to life had the girl jumping, and the box tumbled out of her lap and landed upside down. Cain caught her by the shoulder when she scrambled back toward the wall, slamming herself into it as if she wanted to meld into it. "Kid! It's alright, it's me! You're safe!"

"Cain...?" DG finally whispered, mouthing the word as if it were strange to her. Her face peeked out from beneath her dark curls and then she was scrambling toward him, practically launching herself into his arms.

Surprised, Cain caught her with a grunt, and then rearranged her so she was settled against his chest. He wrapped a hand around her back, noting how stiff she was, and tangled the other in her hair. "What's wrong? What happened?"

DG shuddered in his arms and after shifting a bit she extracted a hand and held aloft a crumpled piece of card he hadn't noticed she was holding, her face still buried against his chest. Cain gently uncurled her fingers from their deathgrip on the card and pulled the crumpled thing out of her grasp. With a frown, he read the fanciful black script, which simply read 'A Gift'.

"What in the hell is this?" He questioned her gently, trying in vain to see her face, but unwilling to let her out of his tight grip.

DG let out a horrible little laugh, shaking furiously as she did. "L-look in the b-box. Someone left muh-me a p-p-present while I w-was s-sleeping," she stammered, fear freezing her words.

Cain faced a dilemma as he tried to look at the box that seemed to be the object of all of DG's current anxiety, but with the kid clinging to him like a lifeline, face buried in his bare chest and hands locked around his biceps, he couldn't quite let her go to do it. DG seemed understandably reluctant to move any closer to the mystery container, and he was stuck as to a way to see what was causing her fright. Reluctantly he settled on calling one of the guards over to retrieve the box for him. When the young man reached over to pull the box up, the contents were upended in the covers of the bed.

Lying on top of the pristine quilt was a large velvet pillow.

Resting on it was large, glistening, and very fresh human heart.

DG dug her fingers into his upper arms when Cain stiffened and let out a deep breath. The guard stared at the gory organ before he turned and ran a few steps before he began to empty the contents of his stomach noisily. Cain stroked DG's hair with a shaky hand, staring at the _gift_ laying in DG's bed, trying steadfastly not to think.

"_Cain, _who's- Who _was_ _that?_" DG whimpered into his chest.

Cain knew all too well who the heart belonged to. "Zero."


	7. Strange Times

_A/N: One of the longest chapters to date! Yay! I won't get into details, but this author would be mighty happy to recieve some reviews, it would be a good time for a little bit of good in my life right about now. And everlasting thank yous to all my sweet reviewers, from the dedicated ones, to the new arrivals. The best part of my days is reading your reviews, and I think next chapter I'm going to do some shout outs. Warning, the next couple of chapters are where the action really picks up, and it has been decided that this story will decidedly be M in the future. Just warning you now. xo's readers!_

_Disclaimer: All I own are things I don't want. I may have a garage sale. _

_

* * *

__The dream came upon her seemingly as soon as her eyes closed. DG was only in the grey expanse she thought of as the behind the scenes for a heartbeat before the scene unfolded. She found herself sitting astride a large black stallion, bareback, although she'd only ever rode a horse with a saddle before and even then not regularly enough to consider herself well-versed in the art of horseback riding. Beside her was the woman she now knew was the Light, sitting elegantly on a gleaming white mare. DG's dream self shuddered in knowing that the woman beside her was not a woman at all, but in fact a goddess. She felt humbled and small. She and the Light were on a dirt road, at the crest of a large hill, overlooking a small settlement, and she guessed they were further along in time than her original dream, as she could see the distant shapes of people moving around in the settlement, moving among roughly hewn homes of logs, some simple mud huts. DG turned as much as she was able and craned her head around, but the Dark was nowhere to be seen. _

_They sat for a long time, looking down at the beehive of activity further down the road, before the Light shifted on Her mount and sighed deeply. When DG studied Her divine face, she realized that the Light had a channel of half-dried tears on Her cheeks, and that there was a new sadness in Her eyes that had not been present when she had seen the goddess before. _

_Then the Light spurred her horse forward and DG followed, surprised she was able to control her mount so well. They moved down to the village at a generous canter, and DG enjoyed the sensation of the muscles of the great beast beneath her bunching and stretching, and the wind that stirred her curls. The goddess Herself made a spectacular sight, hair whipping like a banner outstretched behind Her, gently spurring Her mount to go faster. When they arrived at the wooden logs that marked the gate to the village, a young man about DG's age was waiting, with an expectant, if nervous, look on his face. He was tall, with messy blonde hair that fell into his face in a way that made DG's fingers twitch, and he had a face that looked as if he was destined to be beautiful, once he grew into his strong features. _

_Steely blue eyes regarded the goddess, and of course never glanced DG's way, since technically she was non-corporeal or something, and when the Light drew close he pulled off a battered sloped hat and put it to his chest, bowing low and with great deference. He looked in awe, and when the goddess gave him a soft smile, a blush crept up from his throat all the way to the tips of his ears. _

_'You are the one who called?' The Light asked, Her voice low and husky, like late afternoon sunshine. _

_'Yes Lady, I called for you, I wasn't sure you would come,' he replied softly, replacing his hat and ducking his head slightly. _

_'I always come when I can,' She said seriously, stroking her mount's neck lovingly when the animal stirred impatiently beneath her. 'I imagine you wish for me to heal someone?'_

_The young man shook his head slowly. 'It would be my wish, but no. My father is ill, these are his final days. He's a stubborn man, he does not wish to be granted a second life, he wants to choose where and when he goes, and he wants to die with dignity.'_

_The goddess cocked her head and studied the young man earnestly. 'And if I told you I could heal him even if it were not his wish, but yours?'_

_Squaring his shoulders under her divine gaze, he again gave a slow shake of his head. 'What I wish does not matter much, if you gave him second life, he would only spend the rest of it hatin' me for it. No, my wish is for you to take away his sufferin', enough so he can go in peace and make his farewells, if you could Lady.'_

_The Light pondered this, glowing eyes staring directly at the sun above them without blinking, and finally She came back to Herself and gave a nod. 'I can do this. I will help you hold vigil for your father, take away his pain, and we can make his final journey one of joy.'_

_The young man gave Her a brilliant smile and moved closer with careful, timid steps to lay his hand on Her mount's shoulder. 'M'lady, you are more beautiful than they say, and for this gift, I swear I will repay you, if only you tell me how. Anythin' you want that I can give.'_

_The Light blinked, seemingly confused or surprised and she frowned down at the youth. 'What do I want?'_

_The young man stared up into her ageless, eternal face like a man entranced and nodded. 'I know it ain't much, but I would do whatever is in my power to repay you.'_

_'No one ever asked me what I want,' the Light said haltingly. 'Perhaps, perhaps..- I want company.'_

_Both of them seemed surprised by this answer, and they both stared at each other for a long moment with mirrored expressions. Then the young man gave a rumbling laugh and nodded fervently. 'I can do that, Lady. I was expectin' something more along the lines of my firstborn, but it would be my pleasure to keep you company,' he said pleasantly, and when he smiled, DG felt a little shudder of deja vu in her gut. 'My name is Azariah, Lady.'_

_'I know,' She said with a hint of a smile. 'Let us go see your father, Azariah, son of Adalhard.' _

_And as the young Azariah hurried to unlock the wooden gate, the dream began to fade. DG felt the dream expand and tighten like a cosmic soap bubble and then suddenly she popped into another moment, and now she was watching the Light and Azariah sitting on a log bench outside a large farmhouse, several yards from them. They were speaking quietly, and she could not hear what the farmboy and goddess spoke of from where she stood, but DG made no move to get closer. The scene seemed intimate and DG felt a sense of wrongness in the pit of her stomach at being an unseen witness to the moment. _

_Azariah and the Light were sitting very close to each other, knees touching, and suddenly in a pique of boldness, Azariah ran a hand through the goddess' lustrous hair. The goddess went stiff for a moment, then She leaned into the gentle touch, Her face moving closer to his. Apparently Azariah took this as a sign and he moved in to press his lips softly to Hers. _

_However the goddess might have reacted was lost when a huge bolt of dark magic blew a crater in the grass directly in front of where DG was standing, and she fell backwards in fear, letting out a sharp cry when she hit the ground. From the center of the black maelstrom stepped the Dark and once He was clear, the magic disappeared as quickly as it had come. He stared at his Half and the boy who was now clasping Her pale hand and his face was twisted in a look of pure agony. _

_'How.. Why? My Half, why?' He cried, and DG was surprised to see him quaking with grief, and green eyes shining with unshed tears. _

_The Light disentangled herself from Azariah and stood to face Her Half, Her face full of shame and regret. 'I am sorry, my love. I never meant to hurt you.'_

_At that the Dark gave a dry, cracking peal of grisly laughter. 'Betrayal is one of my aspects, not yours,' He told her dryly, his face twisted with pain. 'And you, mortal, step away from what is mine. You have no claim, no right to sully my Half.'_

_Azariah, to his credit, was not curled up in a ball as DG would have been upon confronting an angry god, instead he only looked to the Light, his face stoic. 'She is not yours, She has chosen.'_

_'Is this true, my love?' he asked luridly, his beautiful face livid. 'You have let the dirt-crawler sully you? Take you?'_

_The Light only shook her head, face hidden behind her curtain of dark hair. She made a pained noise. She flinched when the Dark stepped closer to them, each step he took leaving behind a charred footprint as his power began to spark and fizzle around his long frame. When he got close, Azariah moved in front of her protectively, and even though his tanned face was ghostly pale, he stared the god down. _

_The Dark paid him no mind, stared through him like Azariah didn't even exist on the same plane as Him, and studied his sister with eyes that were slitted, his face a mask. 'Do you love him?' _

_The Light gave a sharp gasp and raised Her head sharply. 'I don't- I don't know. I just wanted the choice.' _

_The fair-haired god examined Her face, and seemed to take more of His answer from it than from Her. With a move too quick to follow He thrust a hand into Azariah's chest, burying it to the wrist. He twisted His hand deftly and then tore out the young man's heart in a smooth gesture, flicking droplets of blood in all directions. The Light was wide-eyed with terror and she opened her mouth as if to scream but made no sound. The god examined the heart cupped in his palm morbidly and then with a surge of black light the heart crisped and burned to ash in a matter of seconds. _

_'Now there is no choice,' He told Her, and DG wasn't sure if she imagined the plaintive, pleading note in his voice or not. _

_Then with a familiar shaking and trembling, the dream began to dissolve. This time, DG didn't even scream. _

_

* * *

_

When DG woke, shivering in the borrowed bed so fiercely that the bed frame trembled, she felt a sense of wrongness. Like an electrical current in the air. With the dream still clutching at her like threads of a spiderweb, she sat up and inhaled sharply through her nose. There was an odd smell in the air, a tang like something charred, and a bit like iron. Head swivelling to look for the source, DG noticed that there was a large metal box on top of the pile of books by her bed, right where her head would be if she were still laying down. Curious, and a little disturbed that someone had come that close to her while she slept and not woken her, she reached for it.

The box was heavy, and when she gave it a shake there was a weird noise like fabric rubbing on metal, followed by an odd squelching noise. Taped to the top of the metal container was a simple piece of card, folded in half. DG pulled it off, picking at the tape with her thumbnail and she opened it. It took her half-leaning and tilting the card toward the moonlight streaming in through the open window to read the neat, flourished cursive.

"A gift," she read aloud, then turned the card over to see if there was more writing on the other side, but it was blank. "Like a get well present? Weird."

With a slight frown DG opened the container. And like she was being transported straight back to her dreams, DG found herself staring at what was obviously a human heart, so fresh she could feel the warmth of it against her fingers as they clutched at the box. After a moment where all she did was stare at the horrid, gory thing while her brain struggled to process what she was seeing, DG felt a tremor of pure fear ignite in her belly, like an ember dropped into kindling. As her whole body snapped taut with it, she heard a strange noise emanating from somewhere close by. It sounded like an animal in pain, even though it was near silent, and some part of her deep inside recognized that she was making the noise.

Somewhere around five hundred and fourty seconds later, lights flared and DG threw herself backwards, dropping the box she had clutched so hard it left violent imprints on her hands and slammed herself against the wall behind her bed. There was suddenly a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Kid! It's alright, it's me! You're safe!" Came a familiar voice, soothing and sharp at the same time.

"Cain...?" DG whispered, the word feeling hard and strange in her mouth. When she snuck a glance at the man from behind the curtain of her hair, she nearly wept at the sight of her tin man, standing rigidly by her bedside in nothing but a pair of blue sleep pants. She pulled her feet beneath her and threw herself at him, not surprised when he caught her with no warning and wrapped her securely in his arms, guiding her to his chest. His warmth felt almost agonizingly good against her cool, clammy skin. DG buried her face in his chest, brushing her cheek against his soft chest hair.

Cain tangled his hand in her hair and the other rubbed at her back soothingly. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Her whole body spasmed and DG buried her face further into Cain's warmth, noting absently that there was a definitive hot spot right over the tin man's heart. With some effort she managed to lift her trembling hand, which still clutched the card, and hand it to him. Cain took a moment to massage her fingers into letting go, as they sure as hell weren't responding to her signals to open.

"What the hell is this?" He inquired, voice soft and soothing as he shifted to try and see her face.

DG made a noise that could have been a laugh or a sob and stuttered some kind of explanation. Cain tried to edge them closer to the bed so he could reach over and retrieve the box, but DG's entire body protested violently and she pushed them back the opposite way. Finally he gave up and called for one of the guards to assist. There was a brief moment of silence, then Cain's entire body went rigid underneath her and DG dug her fingers into his arms, envisioning what he was seeing. There was a noise of someone retching in the background. The tin man ran a shaky hand through DG's hair, as if to calm her.

"_Cain, _who's- Who _was_ _that?_" DG asked in a whimper that was muffled by his chest.

There was a pause as Cain took a deep breath and the muscles of his chest spasmed. "Zero," he rasped. "That _was_ Zero."

DG froze, the name echoing around her head morbidly and she pulled her face out from the safety of Cain's chest to stare at him. His icy blue eyes were locked on the bed, and his face was a mask to her, she couldn't read anything from him, except in the taut lines of muscle that showed his emotions. She unlocked her deathgrip on Cain's upper arms and slowly slid her hands up to grip the sides of his face and tugged at him until he was looking at her. She met his eyes, wishing she could read the swell of emotions he was shuttering in them from her.

_'The man who murdered his wife. Who shut him in a tin suit and made him relive the worst moment of his life over and over again, the man who stole his son from him and shot him.. That man, or a piece of that man, is lying in front of him. This must be tearing him apart,' _DG thought sadly, and she wished she could be his confidant in this, to be the one he would tell his secrets to.

Cain, for his part stared back at her, eyes shuttered and closed off to her. He was so silent, so devoid of reaction, that DG thought, ashamedly, of the moment he had been released from the tin suit, looking more dead than alive. His mouth was a slit in his face, and his body was taut as a bowstring ready to snap. Just when she thought she couldn't stand to stare into his bleak, blank eyes any longer, couldn't handle the all-encompassing silence, Cain snapped. There was an audible noise, like his teeth clicking together and then he was whirling around and out of her grasp to face the guards, one still unfortunately being sick in a bedpan a few beds over.

"How in the hell did this happen? Who got in here, while the Princess was _asleep?_ How could you let this happen?" He hollered, gesturing wildly with his arms. "As far as I'm concerned, you are dead men. I will kill you. Dead."

The guard still upright on his feet went pale and he backed a few steps from the raging tin man in self-preservation. "Captain, no one came in the room, sir! We were at our posts all evening."

"Then how did this.. this get in here? _Dead_," Cain shouted inanely. "I will kill you in broad daylight with my bare hands and suffer the consequences. The Princess could have been killed and you two idiots would have been out there havin' a pissin' contest while it happened."

DG saw Cain reach for his revolver and she jumped forward to grab his hand before he drew the weapon. She didn't think he would actually kill her guards, but she had a feeling that right now wrathful Cain plus loaded weapon was not a good combination. He let her hold his arm while he fumed, breathing in and out of his nose sharply to regain some measure of calm.

"Cain, I don't think anyone got in... I don't think it was their fault," DG explained hoarsely, still on pins and needles of adrenaline. "When I woke up I smelled something weird."

"You smelled somethin' and that means these two are off the hook?" Cain asked, his voice low with warning.

"I couldn't figure out what it was at first, but I think I know now," she said, tugging his arm when his hand twitched closer to his revolver. "It smelled like magic. Dark magic. Like what I smelled when that mage attacked my shields."

Cain paused in his tirade to cast her a disbelieving glance. "You mean to tell me you can smell magic?"

DG shrugged and made herself small under his steely gaze. "I'm just telling you what I smelled tonight, I smelled the night the mage did his pyrotechnics."

The tin man redirected his hardened gaze on the guard who wasn't busy heaving and growled. "As far as I'm concerned, this ain't workin'. I'm done leavin' your protection in the hands of folks who are collectively dumber than a box of hair."

With that statement, Cain grabbed DG's hand and tugged her to follow his lead. "C'mon kid, we're done."

DG made an apologetic face at the guard, who looked a little relieved that he was escaping with all his anatomy in its original condition, at the same time that she tried to fall into step behind Cain, who was walking about as fast as his long legs would take him. "Wait, Cain! Done with what?"

Ignoring her completely, he passed by the guards and pointed two fingers at them, each in turn, and gave them a heated glare. "And I haven't finished with the pair of you twits."

He patted his revolver meaningfully and continued to tow DG behind him. The entirety of their trip, DG pestered him, trying to forage some details out of him as to why the two of them were traipsing around the Palace halls in their sleepwear, even as she tried to get him to slow his pace. Her legs were nowhere near as long as his, and so for the most part she was being dragged like a disobedient child while Cain remained stoically silent. DG resigned herself to consoling herself by studying the muscles that bunched in Cain's back as he walked, and somehow the movement calmed her. Also, it was disturbingly arousing to note that Cain's pants had slipped down low on his hips from the weight of his sidearm, and she was being treated to an indecent amount of skin.

Still, even with that distraction, DG's mind kept flashing back to the gruesome discovery she had made, and to Cain's surprising knowledge of who the heart belonged to. Just how did he know that anyways?

"Cain, please talk to me. How did you know that.. _that_ was Zero?" She asked plaintively, tugging on his larger hand.

Cain's relentless march faltered a step before he regained his equilibrium and his fingers tensed briefly at her arm. "Jeb came to my office. He told me some unknown men broke into the Neverdale Penitentiary, and that only Zero's cell was opened. There was blood in the cell, and it didn't look like he went willingly."

DG dug her heels in and resisted Cain's lead. If he had really been putting force behind his quickstep march, she wouldn't have been able to hold him back, as it was he only sighed and stopped, turning to face her. "Some men kidnapped Zero and you didn't think to tell me?"

Cain levelled a look at her. "Why would it be any concern of yours?"

"Well for one, he was the Witch's right hand man, and two, that man hurt you in ways I can't even begin to comprehend, and I'm your friend. That makes it a big concern for me," DG argued, angered that he thought to leave her in the dark about this.

Sighing he gave a short nod. "I guess I just wanted to protect you, I thought I could have it all figured out before it became an issue. Also, I didn't want your sister involved, and you two have been thick as thieves lately."

"So you thought I would go to my sister and blab, even knowing it would distress her? Wow, Cain, I thought you thought higher of me than that."

"It's not that I don't think highly of you, Kid. Ozma knows I think you do the impossible at least twice a day, but I guess I just _wasn't _thinkin'. It just... It just brought out some pretty dark memories for me," Cain explained, making a distasteful face. "I don't like surprises, and I like the ones that deal with Zero even less."

DG knew Cain was a man of few words, and fewer still when they came to emotions, specifically his own, so a part of her was proud that he shared so many words with her, without much prodding from her. She knew that as much as he tried to play it differently, the man had a well deeper than most inside. She just wished he'd stop living at the bottom of it sometimes.

"I can see why you wouldn't want to share, and I'm willing to bet all my lengthy royal titles on the fact that you were hoping to clear this all up in some one man show. But I have a follow-up question," DG hedged.

Cain began walking again, as if to escape her line of questioning. She picked up her pace to catch up and huffed out her question before he got too far ahead. "Why are we heading to my parent's suite?"

Ignoring her, Cain reached the large, ornate gilded doors that marked the entrance to the Royal Chambers, and stopped at the two guards who immediately closed ranks on him. DG was at his side a moment later, attempting to catch her breath and determined to up her cardio in the near future, all these sudden escapades around the Palace had her feeling out of shape. The guards gave DG a collaborative bow, and Cain a sharp salute.

"I need in to see the Queen and the Royal Consort," Cain said by way of greeting.

The taller of the two guards, with russet hair and a crooked nose shook his head. "I'm afraid the Queen and her Consort have retired for the night, they cannot be disturbed. Protocol is to make an appointment, Captain, as you well know."

"Well I'm makin' an appointment now, consider it official," Cain shot back, this time at least, he wasn't waving a revolver to punctuate his sentences. "I need to see the Queen and it's pretty damn important I see her know, so I'm orderin' you to stand down."

"You don't have that kind of authority, Captain Cain," the guard said, looking down his deviated nose at the tin man and subtly placing his right hand near his own weapon.

Cain snarled at the unspoken threat and gently, surprisingly, he used a hand on the small of DG's back to guide her forward. "I don't, but she does."

The guard looked to DG, studying her to make sure she wasn't being coerced or intimidated into this, and DG just gave a shrug and a smile. "May we please have an audience with my parents? I know the timing is pretty crummy, but it's been that kind of night," she asked prettily.

The guard hemmed and hawed for a moment before a surprisingly handsome smile broke out on his face. "Right then, I'll let you in. But only because I've done it before," he said mischievously. "Six year olds are pretty demanding when they've just had a nightmare and they want to sleep with mommy and daddy."

DG knew she looked flabbergasted, and she heard Cain give a snort of amusement against his better judgment at her side that she swiftly elbowed him in the ribs for. They were granted entrance in short order and DG led Cain through the anterooms and sitting rooms before they stood before the ornate green and gold door that led to her parents' bedroom. She had an awkward moment when she wasn't sure what to do and she gave the tin man a helpless look. "What do I do? Knock? I haven't done this since I was six, apparently. I don't want to wake them up."

Cain reached over her shoulder and rapped sharply on the door. "Let me do most of the talkin', kid."

Rolling her eyes, DG gave a sarcastic nod. "Since I don't know the gist of the conversation to be had, I can agree to that."

There was a murmur from behind the door and then the distinctive shuffling of slippered feet, followed by a brief crashing noise and an oath. Finally Ahamo, his hair a hot mess, sticking up wildly on one side and completely flat on the other, answered the door. There was a very visible crease on his cheek from his pillow. DG expected him to be displeased, but instead he instantly brightened when he saw her and clapped her on the shoulder lightly.

"What's wrong pumpkin?" He asked, pulling her into the bedroom and ignoring Cain completely. "Have a bad dream?"

A weird sense of deja vu overcame her in that moment as another buried memory came to the surface of being the little girl she had once been, having Ahamo ask her just that before crawling into her parents oversized bed, cozying down between the two of them and drifting off to sleep, convinced there was no safer place in the world than sandwiched between her mother and father. "Several, but that's not why we're here, I believe the Captain would like to have a word with you and mother."

Finally seeming to notice the Captain of the tin man and taking in his less than formal attire, Ahamo just looked confused, and possibly still half asleep. "And this conversation had to take place in the middle of the night?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but it couldn't wait."

DG glowered at Cain as her father disappeared back into the darkness of the room, grumbling to himself, and she pulled the tin man to the sitting room to give her parents time to wake up. "What couldn't wait Cain? Why are you being so cryptic?"

Cain remained silent until Queen Lavender emerged from their chamber, Ahamo in tow, each of them wearing soft silk robes. She was yawning, but covering it primly with a hand. When she took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, she crossed her hands daintily over her lap and like a flip had switched, Cain and DG were suddenly with the Queen, and not just DG's mother, the woman. She gave Cain a calculating look and as Ahamo moved to stand behind her shoulder, she gestured for Cain to begin talking. "I presume this is pretty important, if it must be said at this hour, so proceed Captain."

"My apologies, Your Majesty," Cain began, but Lavender waived off the niceties and gave him a warning look. "Tonight, without any apparent breaches in the security of the infirmary, someone managed to sneak in a box and set it right next to the Princess as she slept."

Queen Lavender's eyes narrowed as she thought that over. "You mean to tell me, no one saw anyone enter or leave the infirmary?"

"Not from what I could find out. The shifts overlap and the guards were pretty damn sure, pardon my language, that no one had gotten past them. Not only that, but this box contained a human heart, with a card that read only 'A Gift'," Cain filled them in on the rest of the little details, and Lavender gestured for DG to come stand by her as Cain explained how he knew who the heart had belonged to, and she held DG's hand and ran her fingers soothingly over DG's palm.

"So if no one heard or saw anything unusual, how did you know DG was in some kind of trouble, Captain Cain?" Ahamo interjected suddenly, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Cain stuttered to a halt and his light eyes drifted to DG's almost unconsciously. "Uh, I'm not too sure on that one, Your Highness."

Ahamo ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and frowned. "But something alerted you to it, you said you ran to get to DG because you knew something was wrong."

To DG's endless surprise, Cain managed to blush then, the colour working across his face to the tips of his ears and all the way down to his chest. It was a fascinating process to watch. Cain murmured something unintelligible and fidgeted under their combined gazes.

"Didn't quite catch that Cain, wanna run it by us one more time?" DG asked, also wondering how it was that Cain knew the moment she had been in trouble when there was nothing she could think of to alert him.

"I said, I just felt it," Cain muttered, slightly louder this time and unconsciously his fingers drifted to his chest and lingered just above his heart.

Something in DG stuttered to a hard stop as she felt a vulnerable, wispy thread of realization drift through her fingers and then disappear before she could fully grasp it.

"But that ain't the reason I'm here, right now. The fact of the matter is that it's obvious that the Princess is bein' targeted here. The attack on the ball? That wasn't about anyone but DG, the rest of us were just decoys. And the guards have failed her three times now. The Princess needs a bodyguard."

Lavender inclined her head as she considered Cain's statement, at the same time that her husband went ruddy in the cheeks as he processed the idea that his daughter was once again the target of some malevolent force. "You may well be right, Captain. It's about time my daughter had some kind of protection detail, as she gets into trouble often before breakfast," Lavender said thoughtfully as DG interjected with a protest that was largely ignored. "Do you have someone in mind?"

Cain nodded decisively. "I do, Your Majesty. I'm volunteerin' for that job myself."

Ahamo began to shake his head as the Queen pointed out the shortcomings in that plan. "But you're the Captain of the Tin Men, you can't possibly do both."

DG stared at Cain, completely speechless for a rare moment, and wondered just what in the hell the man was thinking. He was seriously proposing becoming her personal bodyguard? Playing babysitter? They would kill each other within the first week!

"I couldn't, and I'm not plannin' on it. I only took the job until there was a suitable placement in place. I have a list of several names on my desk, and full background reports and recommendations for each. If it pleases your Highnesses, I could have a man trained by the end of the week."

Literally agog by the depth of Cain's plans, and wondering how long he had been planning this, DG barely heard as her parents and her tin man- err body guard?- hatched their newfound plans to ruin her life. The only part she tuned in for was when Cain demanded that a part of his stipulation was that he be moved closer to her suite, so that he could be nearby if something happened.

"Wait, what? Cain, you live in Central City. You can't move in here!" DG cried, profoundly upset over the idea that Cain would be sacrificing his independence if he took this on. She didn't want him to give up his apartment, his freedom, his _life. _

Cain turned to her and his face was amused. "I barely see the apartment in Central City. I spend most of my days travellin', or bunkin' down at my office, or here. I'm livin' a life of bureaucracy I never wanted. Trust me when I say, getting a suite at the palace ain't gonna be any hardship."

DG stared at him open-mouthed before she finally slammed her foot down into the floor and turned her back on the lot of them. "I'm just throwing my vote out there, I think this is a bad idea, I vote Witness Protection Program."

There were a few murmurs of confusion before Ahamo threw in his Otherside knowledge, and then there were a few quiet laughs. DG felt like pouting, instead she picked at a button on her nightshirt and frowned. Didn't they know that they were asking Cain to give up everything? What if she was a target, didn't that put him in just as much danger as her? It was true that there was no one else she would trust more to guard her back, but wasn't it her say if she didn't want to risk losing one of her closest friends?

"Captain, I think you have a good point. The Palace Guard has been embarrassingly lax in protecting my daughter, and while I think that needs to be rectified immediately, I believe you're right when you say DG needs someone we can all trust to keep her safe. DG's protests aside, I think you're the best man for the job," Ahamo affirmed. "Who else better to protect her than the man by her side fighting to save the O.Z. from the witch."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Cain said formally. "I can start immediately, my suggestion would be to move DG to an empty room, somewhere she wouldn't normally stay. I know of a good place for tonight."

"Done," declared the Queen with a yawn. "DG, dearest, come give your mother a hug. I want to know you're okay. Tonight must have been horrifying for you."

DG sighed, letting go her anger with the exhale, and turned to move into her mother's waiting embrace. It was warm, and the smell of peach blossoms and something uniquely her mother's scent surrounded her and DG felt as she always did when her mother hugged her. She felt like a child again, instantly transported back in time. Ahamo's hand came around to stroke her cheek and DG felt a flood of emotion barely kept in check threaten to overwhelm her. After a moment she pulled away.

"Goodnight my darling, we'll talk in the morning when everyone is dressed appropriately and I'm not fighting to stay awake," her mother promised, briefly tangling her fingers with DG's to squeeze them.

Queen Lavender and Ahamo said their goodnight as DG and Cain walked through the opulent anteroom to the main doors and left the suite. The guards stayed silent as they left, but the russet-haired guard winked at DG as they passed and she couldn't help but smile. As they began another meander through the halls, taking a route DG had never travelled before, she struggled to keep herself from yawning. She was bone-deep tired, having been disturbed by nightmares that weren't her own and then waking up to her very own gift box of horror. DG felt like she hadn't had any uninterrupted sleep in days, and she very much hoped that when she fell back to sleep, it would be dreamless.

Still, something nagged at her in her exhaustion. The question Cain had evaded when asked in her parents' chambers. "Cain, how _did_ you know something was wrong when I woke up?"

Cain sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking a little bleary-eyed himself. "I just did, kid."

DG gnawed at her lip, frustrated with his lack of answers. "Alright then, how about we play a little game. You answer one of my questions, I answer one of yours."

The tin man studied her for a long moment. "Fair enough, if I go first."

Groaning, DG rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Fine!"

"What did you need to see Azkadellia for?"

"Information," DG hedged, uncomfortable.

"About...?" Cain pressed, sounding annoyed.

"That's two, answer mine and I'll answer your first one in full." DG told him, unwilling to divulge her secrets without at least getting one of his in turn. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"I woke up and I could feel this white hot fear runnin' through me. I knew it wasn't mine. It felt wrong. And my chest hurt somethin' fierce," Cain told her reluctantly, tapping over his heart with two fingers.

Trying not to take the invitation to let her eyes run wild over his chest, DG only glanced at him before she realized something with a gasp. "When you held me in the infirmary, your chest, right there, it was hot. Hotter than the rest of you."

Cain grunted and let his fingers fall from his chest. "That's the place I could feel you."

"Feel me how?" DG asked, wide-eyed and fully awake now.

"That's two. And now we're at your door. Answer mine and we'll play the rest in the mornin'."

Wrapping her hands around the door knob, DG pushed the door to her new room open slightly and only half turned toward the tin man. "I wanted to know about the gods. They're in my dreams, showing me things. Things that aren't in the books. I think they want something from me. I needed Az to translate for me."

Cain stared at her, his blue eyes blown wide with surprise. "The gods are-."

"We'll play the rest in the morning," she reiterated, parroting back his own words to him. "Goodnight Cain!"


	8. You only live once

_A/N: First off, thank you lovely readers for all the feedback and reviews! I'm taking in the good and the bad, and trying to learn from it all. I especially want to say thank you to those of you who reviewed Balm, I'm kind of getting hooked on writing those pieces, so expect more! Keep on reviewin'! Everytime you review, a kitten gets it's wings.. or something. _

_Disclaimer: So totes not mine. _

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_When DG enters the dream once again, she's almost gotten used to the strangeness of falling face first into the past. The grey screen reminds her of a busted television, or backstage behind a cinema screen, and there's an air of waiting for the show to begin, or to end, whatever it may be. This time the grey fuzzes and sputters out before the dream begins, like the magic that it takes to create this world is fading and running low on power. When the world shifts and forms, making little creaks and groans like its in pain, it's still slightly fuzzy. DG is surprised when this time, instead of standing with the Lady she has become accustomed to being her guide, she is standing with an elderly woman in a small, cramped cabin. There are jars lining makeshift shelves from floor to ceiling, kettles, drums, pots and pans shoved under every ounce of cabinet space. There is even a huge cast iron cauldron in the fireplace. From every rafter and beam in the ceiling are hanging bundles of drying herbs, and the smells is pungent, earthy and bitter. The old lady is standing in front of a large disk-shaped mirror over the chipped basin that serves as a sink. She is staring at herself , running age-lined hands over her worn face, marking lines and wrinkles. Her eyes are ageless, a dark, clear blue. Her hair is long and purest white, braided well past her waist. She is whip-thin, but her hands look capable. _

_It is when DG begins to become discomfited by the absence of the Light, her companion in dreaming, that there is a flicker of light from the old woman and for a brief moment her face reflected in the distorted mirror becomes very familiar. The Light stands where the old woman had for the briefest of seconds, Her youthful appearance and beauty a strong contrast to the aged, worn body of the other woman. It is only for the briefest of moments that the Light stays in Her own form, then with a sigh she flickers back to Her disguise. _

_It is not a moment too soon, because scant seconds after Her illusion is crafted comes a timid knock on the door. The old woman spins, a move too fluid for her apparent age, and she moves quickly to answer the door. When it is opened, with DG at her back peering over her should, a face DG recognizes and knows all too well peers back from under a large green hood. Her mother is much younger, here, but she still has those piercing lavender eyes, and she seems to wear the heavy mantel of a queen even now. _

_"Hedge witch Menora?" Her mother whispers the question as if afraid to be heard, or discovered. _

_"That I am, Highness," The Light answers with a hoarse voice, sounding ancient. _

_"I heard that you could help me... With issues of-?" Lavender begins timidly, seemingly afraid to finish her sentence. "Of fertility?" _

_The hedge witch stands aside, waves Lavender in with a gentle hand. Her mother comes in, and only when the door is closed behind her does she drop the oversized hood of her travelling cape. She wears her golden hair loose and unbound, as DG has only seen it rarely, and she looks impossibly young. _

_"I can, but I have heard that you have a child already, Princess Lavender." _

_"I do, my dearest Azkadellia. She is our darling, but we desperately want another. And the moon has waxed and waned so many times and still yet we cannot conceive. I just feel it in my bones, lady. I am meant to have another," her mother explains, her voice soft and pleading as she places her palm over her flat belly. _

_"And you would love this child? Raise it well? Teach it of this world, and give it an anchor?" The hedge witch asks cryptically, her voice raising with each word. _

_"We would! We would do anything for our child, for our children," Lavender swears solemnly, her eyes wide and exquisite. _

_The hedge witch studies her for a long moment and then she steps close, and holds her hands out in the air, waiting for a signal from the Queen in waiting. When Lavender gives a nod, the witch presses her aged hands to Lavender's belly and closes her eyes. She shifts her fingers, interlacing them, and when she has them placed just right, she begins to hum. It is soft and soothing, and Lavender begins to blink heavily, and even DG finds her eyelids heavy. When her mother's eyes drift closed, the hedge witch's hands begin to glow, like pre-dawn light, soft and dreamy. Then the light begins to stream into Lavender's womb, and her mother makes a face of discomfort, but her eyes remain closed. When the light begins to wane from her hands, and the illusion she wears begins to tatter and fray and DG can see parts of the true Light shining through, the hedge witch leans close to Lavender's face and she smiles. _

_"You will have a daughter, Highness. And you will love her greatly. You will make great sacrifice for her. And one day, you will tell her the most important thing she will ever hear in her life," the Light whispers as Her disguise falls away, and DG notices with horror that the goddess Herself appears to be fragmenting, as particles of Her begin to dissolve and flow through Her hands and into the Princess' belly. "You will tell her-"_

_And just before She breaks apart like a star gone nova, the Light whispers the last part directly into Lavender's ear and DG hears none of it. Then the goddess is gone, and all that is left is a soft glow emanating through her mother's belly, and soon even that fades. _

_Lavender stands, swaying, eyes closed, for a long moment as DG stares, hearing her heart beat whooshing in her ears, and nothing else. When Lavender finally comes back to herself, she looks around the cluttered cabin and sees nothing. Her eyes are waxy and dull, and she mechanically pulls her hood up over her vibrant hair and leaves the cabin. _

_DG is left alone. _

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Cain woke up feeling like he was having a heart attack, the pain in his chest was so terrible that he could hardly catch his breath. He was struggling to sit up, curled around the ache in his chest protectively when the screaming began. It was sharp and horrific, and it was coming from the room next to his, piercing through the walls so easily they might as well have been paper thin. This time he wasn't surprised when he got a blast of what DG was feeling emanating from that fiery place next to his heart, but the emotion was so complex he couldn't decipher it. Cain was out of bed in an instant, grabbing his revolver and clutching at his chest as he hit a dead sprint for his door. In the hall, he skidded on the slick marble floors, nearly fell as he tried to come to a dead stop at DG's suite door, and only caught himself by grabbing at the wall. When the door knob proved to be locked, Cain swore and cocked his revolver, shooting out the lock with one shot and nearly knocking himself out with the kick from his own gun when he was unprepared for it. This time the door opened on the first tug, and he shoved it open with his shoulder as his hands were occupied, one levering his sidearm, the other fisted over his heart. And DG was _still screaming. _

The minute he got to DG's open bedroom door, there was a blast of pure light, the magic so strong that it threw him off his feet and the sound of windows shattering nearly deafened him. He clambered to his feet unsteadily, and Cain had to shield his eyes, the light was so blinding it left him teary-eyed. He found that trying to get closer to the source of that magic was like wading through wet sand, it was so thick and heady that it made walking difficult and thinking near impossible. By the time he got to her bedside, Cain could feel the heat radiating off his girl, and from between slitted eyelids he could see her, contorted so impossibly, her back arched so high, that he was afraid she was going to snap her own spine. Her screaming was getting hoarse now, and Cain was afraid she was going to tear her throat open with the sheer force behind it. Her eyes were squeezed shut and when he reached for her, a stream of blood spurted from her nose violently and he snatched his hand back when he felt the heat pouring off her in waves.

"DG!" He yelled, trying to break passed her own screams. "C'mon kid, _wake up!" _

Cain reached for her again, wincing as the heat began to blister his skin. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain, finally managing to grab her shoulders. It was like holding a hot branding iron, the agony of just touching the kid was near unbearable. He couldn't understand how she could be this hot and not burning herself up. He gave her a rough shake, which only had her scream ratchet up a notch as she contorted her body even further, convulsing away from his touch.

"Fuck," he swore, trying not to pull his hands back and get a better grip on DG. "Kid, you're going to burn this whole place up, you're hurting yourself, wake up damnit!"

Even as he fought to try and pin her back to the mattress so she wouldn't snap her own spine under the force of her thrashing, the sheets and covers rumpled underneath her began to blacken and smoke. He had never seen the full force of her magic before, and it was a little frightening to behold. With his eyes still half-closed, Cain finally snarled and snatched the girl up and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms firmly around her and pinning her to his body. The torment of holding her was incredible, he felt like everywhere his skin made contact with DG was cracking, bubbling and peeling. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth so hard he could hear his jaw creak at the smell of burning flesh and held on tighter.

"Princess Dorothy Gale! You wake your royal ass up right now!" He shouted at her, afraid, no terrified, that at the rate she was draining herself, the kid was going to kill herself.

When she still didn't rouse, only continued that soul-searing scream right into his ear, Cain racked his agonized brain to come up with a second plan of action. Finally, he lifted them both off the bed, wrapped his arms tighter over his burning bundle of unconscious girl and dragged her over to the small en-suite bathroom as fast as he could. Laying her gently in the claw foot tub, he reached over and used his damaged hand to yank the faucet on and slammed down the tub stopper with fingers that had literally blistered so badly they had fused together. Cold water streamed into the tub, full force, and within a minute the icy water had reached most of DG's body. By the time it got to her chin and he was afraid his second plan was only going to end up with her drowning, the light streaming from DG began to sputter and the water in the tub fizzled and steamed as it took the heat from her magic.

With a gasp, DG finally stopped screaming and woke up. She stared at him with pupil-blown eyes, the vibrant blue that normally met his gaze was completely swallowed by black. His relief was so profound that Cain nearly fell to his knees as he fumbled to turn the faucet off with hands that no longer functioned right. DG stared at him for a long time before she opened her mouth and shaped words that would not come. She managed a faint murmur that he couldn't hear.

"What, darlin', I can't hear you," he said, worry still clenching his heart.

"Who am I?" she whimpered and then she began to cry, hoarse, heart-breaking sobs racked her entire frame. "Who am I, Cain?

Panic swept through his body and Cain finally gave in to the impulse to keel over and he dropped into a squat and leaned his forehead against the cool porcelain tub. "You don't remember who you are?"

"I remember _everything_," she cried, her voice frantic. "_Who am I?" _

_'Ozma help me, I'm so lost here,' _Cain thought deliriously. His torso, arms and fingers burned so badly that he half wanted to crawl into the cold tub with the kid, but his fear for her overrode everything.

"We need to get you to the healer, right now."

DG swallowed a sob and half pulled herself up into a sitting position, her bedraggled curls half wet and dripping, her charred nightgown clinging to her every curve. "No, no. I need Raw."

"I haven't seen the furball in a couple of days, kid. I'm not even sure he's still stayin' at the palace," he protested, knowing he had to get her medical attention immediately. If she fought him on it, he was going to drag her kicking and screaming down to the infirmary.

"No, he's still here. I can feel him," DG hoarsely murmured cryptically.

At that point there was a hammering on DG's suite doors before Cain heard someone kick down the remains of the door. "Princess!"

"We're in here," Cain yelled back tiredly, and a veritable troop of guards piled into the bedroom, overflowing into the bathroom and crowding him and DG. As one man began to take the lead, issuing orders, Cain leaned over and fumbled to pull the plug on the tub drain, hissing as pain bit deeply into his finger when he tried to bend them.

"Captain! Was there a fire? Someone reported all the windows on this floor shattering, Sir," the grey-haired guard with a great many medals decorating his uniform asked, standing at attention and paying Cain and the Princess much more deference then they really deserved at this moment, considering one of them was half soaked and claimed not to know who she was, and the other was halfway to crispy.

"I'll give you a full report later Captain-General, right now we need a healer-" Cain began before DG interrupted him, sounding just as exhausted as he was, her voice low and husky.

"We need Raw, find him and bring him to my quarters, please," DG said, and somehow made the tired plea sound authoritative.

"Right away Highness!" The older man saluted them and turned smartly on his heel to clear his men out of the bathroom. They could hear him barking orders as he went.

When Cain turned his attention back to DG, she had pulled her knees to her chest and was resolutely staring at nothing. There was still blood trickling from her nose, although it was nowhere near the deluge it had been. She looked pale and drained, as well as shaken. His chest was still aching, and while it was not halfway near as overwhelming as it had been, he could still sense a portion of what DG was feeling, and that knowledge disturbed him. The girl was confused and broken, and not just a bit frightened.

Shuffling closer on his knees, wincing as the burns on his body pulled at the slight movement, he got close enough to rest his head on top of hers. "Wanna continue our game?"

"No," DG said darkly, and drew up on herself even further, but she didn't push him away. "I want out of this tub."

Cain made a noise of agreement and stood up, with no little effort, and extended one of his battered hands to her to help her out. DG went to take it before she noticed the angry red, blistered skin on his hand and her eyes darted from there to his torso and his arms and then to his face. She was wide-eyed with concern as she finally realized the state he was in.

"Cain, oh no... Is that because of me?" She asked him brokenly, fresh tears threatening on the horizon.

"It was mostly my own fault, I didn't learn my lesson the first time I touched you and got burned," Cain offered jokingly.

Her face crumpled and she hurriedly pulled herself out of the overlarge tub and reached out to grab his face with her hands and she stroked the sides of his face with her now cool fingers. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Kid, it's alright, you didn't mean to," Cain was quick to remind her, knowing that look on her face, the one that meant she would take all the blame and guilt and bury it along with all the other burdens she imagined were hers and hers alone to carry the weight of.

"What does that matter if the end result is the same?" She queried darkly, her voice sounding rough with unshed tears.

Cain didn't have an answer for that, so instead he pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll be fine."

"God, day one of babysitting the Princess of Mishaps and you already have burns over a third of your body," DG grumbled, and her half-hearted joke lightened his heart.

"I knew the risks when I signed up. They made me sign a waiver."

It was at that time that a guard cleared his throat to announce his presence, and the youth gestured to a half-asleep Viewer, who was comically clad in a pair of cut off trousers and nothing else. Not that anyone in the room save for the young guard could be called presentable in that moment. The guard saluted them and quietly disappeared into the background where Cain's keen ears could hear several guards waiting in the hallway outside DG's chambers. Immediately after his departure, Raw moved quickly over to the pair of them and eyed them both with a studious eye.

"What DG and Cain do now?" He grumbled unhappily. "Fight forest fire of great evil?"

Cain snorted and even DG managed a weak smile at the joke before the Viewer moved closer to inspect the damage.

"Cain hurt worse outside. DG harder. Who heal first?" The Viewer asked, holding his furred hands out at the exact midpoint between them.

Immediately they both clamoured for the other's behalf, and finally DG held up an imperious hand. "Cain first, that's an order, Raw."

The Viewer nodded as Cain grumbled and pulled Cain back into DG's bedchambers, which still had a smoky smell and had him sit down on a straight-backed chair by DG's barely used vanity. He took Cain's damaged hands first, wrapping his warm, furry hands around them and closed his eyes. There was the familiar gut-wrenching streak of pain as months of healing was accomplished in less than a couple of minutes, and Cain nearly bit through his tongue as his flesh repaired itself under the Viewer's touch. His torso and arms weren't nearly as bad, but he was still unprepared for the bolt of pain each time Raw worked his Viewer magic.

Once the Viewer had deemed Cain fit, and indeed his skin was only tinged a shiny pink where he had once been near charred, he moved on to DG. DG, surprisingly, shied away from the Viewer's touch.

"Does Cain have to be here for this?" She asked quietly, studiously avoiding his eyes.

Cain was about to protest when Raw surprised him by refusing DG's silent request. "Raw think Cain is part of this. DG know this."

DG made a weak noise of defeat, and dropped her head in consent. The Viewer moved to end her nose bleed, gripping her cheeks with his fingers and touching the bridge of her nose with his thumbs, but as soon as he closed his eyes to concentrate, Raw made a strangled noise and pulled away as if he had been burned. Cain watched confused and concerned as the Viewer dropped to his knees and laid his forehead on DG's knees, like a small child. He made a faint noise of distress in the back of his throat and almost unconsciously DG reached forward to stroke Raw's furry head, running her fingers through his mane comfortingly.

"What the hell is goin' on? Raw?" Cain asked with apprehension.

Raw finally pulled his head up and reached up to grasp DG's hands in his own. "DG know now."

"What Raw, what do I know?" DG asked frantically, lowering her face closer to his. "Is this real? Who am I?"

"DG remember who she is. Now the Light back," Raw practically purred, running his hands over hers and bowing his head.

"Okay, someone is going to have to explain this whole damn show to me, 'cause I'm in the dark here," Cain protested, not enjoying his confusion one bit.

"DG gave Cain very special gift, Cain know this?" Raw said, tapping his chest meaningfully.

Cain rubbed his palm over his heart and with a frown he nodded. "Whenever DG is in trouble, I can feel her inside of me. And my chest hurts something fierce."

"It does? You can? What'd I do Raw?" DG interjected, sounding horrified.

"DG give Cain part of her light. Cain's heart took gift and kept it safe."

_'Well, that sounded embarrassingly like a declaration of love, thanks Raw.' _

"I gave him a part of me? What does that mean?"

Raw moved to Cain and with a murmur asked if he could touch Cain's chest. Cain reluctantly agreed, not sure if he was ready to get this intimate with the furball just yet, they were still on the friends stage. "Cain will always know where DG is. Cain will know when DG feel strong. Hurt. Sad. Frightened. Cain will be protected from DG power."

"But he wasn't! He got burns everywhere when he touched me!" DG protested hotly.

"Anyone but Cain would not have been able to touch DG."

"Oh," DG breathed, and then went pale when the full realization of that statement hit her.

"So we're all agreed, DG gave me a piece of herself, what in the hell does that have to do with anythin' and everythin' that has happened?" Cain growled, getting impatient with all the talking. Which is exactly why he had become a tin man in the first place, there was a whole lot less jawing and emoting when you had a gun and a badge.

"Cain feel it in his heart," Raw said cryptically, and tapped on Cain's chest with two fingers.

With a gasp, Cain felt that little ember of light embedded in his chest wake up once more, although it was not as painful as it had been previously, it was still uncomfortably. He frowned and concentrated on that spot, even went so far as to close his eyes and try to open up a line of dialogue with the bit of magic that now lived in his heart.

"Nothin' is happenin'. A whole lot of nothin'," he growled and opened his eyes. "Oh."

This time when he looked at DG, she was glowing all over, faintly, with a glimmering white light that flickered and fanned out around her, like an aurora of light. It was her aura, he realized. And at her very center, the light glowed like a tiny star, imprisoned in her chest, guarded by her ribs. Her eyes were a purer shade of blue as she looked back at him, her skin creamier, and her hair was so dark it almost glowed. She was beautiful to look at, but then again, she always had been, even without all the dramatics. But Cain's mind flashed back to her drawing that he had studied while she had been in the infirmary, of a pair of beautiful beings that were supposed to be gods. Seeing her like this, Cain could see a definite resemblance to the woman and-

"_Oh,_" he breathed, and it sounded like a prayer.

"Yeah," DG muttered and flopped herself down into her vanity chair. "My life is like the worst soap opera _ever_."


	9. Runs in the Family

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews folks! I wish I could reply to each and every one of you, but I simply don't have the time. As it is, I piece together chapters by waking up at 4am and staying up way too late. I love them, I treasure them, I CRAVE them, though. Thanks to KLC for pointing out my error that the Queen's hair is not in fact blonde, but prior to the second life dealy, she was brunette. My mistake. Also, kudos to Miller for calling it ;) Can't tell you yet if you're right about the rest, but you're a clever one! Keep the reviews up, they're bolstering my spirits during a rough and hectic time. And just as a note, this is a where the story really picks up, I'm considering this arc 2, so be prepared! _

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"I'm still goin' to need an explanation, here," Cain said, his voice hushed and reverent. "I feel like I walked in on the end of the conversation."

DG shrugged her shoulders helplessly and slouched further into her chair. How did you explain something you didn't quite understand yourself, especially when you were barely on the cusp of coming to grips with the whole thing? The only thing she knew for sure was that she didn't like the look in Cain's eye, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to bow or take his hat off or pray for forgiveness. Considering how easily he had come to terms with the fact that she was a Princess, one of legend, and how he pretty much shrugged it off and treated her like a human being, this new hurdle seemed pretty huge. She didn't want Cain to treat her differently. She didn't want him to look at her and see the Light, with a big capital friggin' L. She didn't even see herself that way. She was DG, plain and simple. It terrified her to think that there was a possibility that she wasn't even human.

"I don't know how to explain it, or where to start, Cain," she muttered, feeling uncomfortable and awkward with his awed scrutiny. She wanted to hide away.

"Well, I figure startin' at the beginnin' is a good start," Cain offered slowly, his voice still stilted, like he was speaking around a lump in his throat. "You can also explain why you're all glowy, while you're at it."

DG threw up her hands and looked at Raw desperately. "The beginning is like, 'The Beginning'. Emphasis on the creation of the world. I don't think we have time for eons worth of story telling, plus, I'm a long story short kinda gal."

Cain frowned and fiddled with his hat, looking like he wanted to argue but wasn't sure he had that privilege any more. She liked that look even less than the reverent one. A Cain who wasn't ready to butt heads with her was a Cain that was severely out of sorts.

At that moment, a shaggy terrier darted into the room, followed by the surprised shouts of several guards crowding the hall outside her chambers. DG shouted her consent for the doggy visitor, and the clamour settled down. Tutor ran in tight circles around the room as if in agitation, avoiding the scattered glass where her windows had shattered before he finally shimmered and shook and the air around the dog thickened and distorted and the shapeshifter became the man once more. As soon as he was in man form, Tutor dropped to his knees, surprisingly agile for a man his age, in front of DG and bowed so low his forehead touched the ground and stayed prostrate that way until DG shook her shock off.

"Tutor! Stop that! Get up, please!" She pleaded, upset and shaken, and gestured with her hands to get the man to his feet.

Tutor finally stood, still bowing his head, and the man who had been in charge of her magic lessons since she was four, save for a short intermittence when she had been on vacation in the Otherside without her memories, looked almost frightened. "Lady, forgive me, I did not know."

"Don't call me that, Tutor, please. For God's sake, I'm still DG. I'm me, I think," DG added, unsure. "How did you even know?"

Tutor gave her a surprised look. "When your powers awoke, every magical being, every person in the O.Z. with even a touch of magic, felt it, I'm sure. It was the single most powerful touch of magic I've felt in my lifetime."

Raw made a noise of confirmation. "Raw feel DG too."

"Oh damn," DG swore, tugging on a strand of hair in frustration and anxiety.

Cain stepped forward, his hat in his hands as he fiddled with the brim and address Tutor. "Maybe you can explain this for me, then. How come I look at DG and I see... I don't even know what."

Tutor half-turned to face Cain and DG both. "You don't know what she is? Who?"

Cain scowled and gave Tutor a dry look, the shapeshifter never haven been his favourite person. "I'm not blind, shifter. It's just what I see doesn't make sense. Gods are metaphors, they aren't the kid who makes her fruit salad into a smiley face on her omelette in the mornin'."

"Hey! Everyone needs a pick-me-up in the morning. Excuse me for trying to bring a little art and culture to breakfast," DG interjected with a sour face.

"DG is in fact the Light, Cain. There's no mistaking it after what happened when her power awoke. As far as I can figure it, she's some form of reincarnation, or possibly a vessel, who was unaware of her true nature. Her powers must have been dormant until something triggered them," Tutor explained, studiously avoiding looking at DG as he gave his speech in the dry tone he usually reserved for magic lectures.

"Oh," DG corrected reluctantly. "I can explain that. I'm not a vessel, if that means what I think it does. The goddess- or me? Oh, damn, I don't know how to explain this. The _Light _was hiding from the world, posing as a hedge-witch. My mother visited Her sometime after Az was born, looking for help having another child. The Light like, put Herself into my mother. And then nine months later, bam! DG the paradox."

Tutor pondered this for a moment, moving his mouth like he was literally chewing over her words and digesting them. "My best assumption is that the Light inserted herself into the Queen's womb, in effect made herself at least partially mortal, so she could be reincarnated. The question would be, why? And do you remember all of this DG? If you have all the Light's memories... That would be invaluable knowledge. I can't even imagine the breadth or value of that kind of gift."

DG brought her feet up and folded them underneath her, frowning. "I don't remember no, I just had these dreams. I think that's what triggered this mess. But I think I can answer the why. The Light had this kind of less than innocent relationship with a man. I don't know if She loved him, but skipping to the end, the Dark ripped his heart out," DG made a face at the gruesome image replaying in her head. "He didn't want to share her. I honestly think she was tired. And sad."

"So refresh me on my history, I don't know near enough about the Light, or for that matter, the Dark," Cain said, frustration evident in his voice.

"The Light and the Dark were the first. They were said to have been created from the same soul, and so each alone is referred to as a Half. They created man, and because Light cannot exist without Dark, man has the capacity for both. They were said to be lovers, siblings, soul mates, more than all of those things. I don't think we can comprehend what they were to each other," Tutor lectured, his gaze on the wall as he expounded the history lesson. "Men created shrines to them, temples and monuments, most of which have crumbled to nothing, but a few of which still remain. The Ancients had specially selected men and women who served as priests and priestesses to each, chosen from children who showed an abundance of magic. And then one day, and from what DG says, we can assume it was a sort of lovers quarrel, the Light disappeared. For centuries, the Dark reigned solo. Without the Light to temper his nature, it was a terrible time. And then the Dark disappeared as well, many assumed he joined his Half, or that without Her, He could not survive."

Cain shoved his hat back on his head and made an exasperated face. "Her, She, you, the Light. They're all the same person?"

"More or less," Tutor offered with a shrug. "DG seems to be mortal enough at this point, but her power is unimaginable, and I only felt an aftershock of it. Who knows what she will become now that she is aware."

DG didn't like the sound of that and she dropped her face into her hands and covered her face, feeling embarrassingly close to tears, if only because she was so overwhelmed. "I don't want any of this. _None of it. _I'm opting out. I don't even want to hear about the benefits package." Her voice was hoarse even to her ears.

When she started to shake, a hand came to rest on her shoulder, soft and hesitant. She pried her hands from her face and weakly lifted her head. Steely blue eyes regarded her deliberately, and this time they were free of that worshipful look. This was Cain, telling her without words that they were just DG and Cain once more.

"Kid, I don't care what you are, you're still just DG to me," Cain said solemnly, like he was swearing an oath. "This just means you definitely can't get rid of me now."

At his words, a spark of light flashed from his hand on her shoulder and swirled up into the air like a vibrant dust mote and hovered in front of DG's face.

"What in the hell is that?" Cain asked with trepidation, gripping DG's shoulder tighter.

Without knowing why, DG reached out, even as Cain barked a warning to her not to, and brushed the mote with her fingertips. It felt warm and safe, like a soft blanket fresh from the dryer and when DG opened her mouth to tell the others of the sensation, the mote jumped and flew into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively and felt an odd, metallic taste heavy on her tongue. Amid all the disconcerted noises around her, DG felt surprisingly calm and serene.

"I accept," she said, the words shaped and formed on her tongue strange but familiar at the same time. "You will be my champion."

Cain, Raw and Tutor stared at her, and even though she was a touch frightened at the formal words that had come from her unbidden, at the words that felt like a pact sealed in blood or something deeper, she was struck by the comical element of the identical open-mouthed looks on their collective faces. The urge to giggle was highly inappropriate given the circumstances, so instead she buried her face in her hands again.

"What in the hell does that mean?" Cain asked after a long pause.

"I have no idea," DG grumbled into her hands.

"Great, another damn mystery. This night is turnin' into a horse and pony show."

"So when you said that everyone with magic could feel my, ah.. awakening, you meant?" DG asked Tutor, tickling her palms with her lips as she spoke.

"I meant exactly that, Lady-Err, Princess."

"So I should be expecting Az and-" She managed to start the sentence before the very people she was speaking barrelled into her room, once again disrupting the guards, but getting passed them with a few royal commands.

Azkadellia and her mother were both in disarray, neither of them bothering to get out of the nightgowns, instead opting for silk robes and bare feet. Az's hair was in a comical tangle, and the Queen had a pillow crease on her right cheek, but both of them had mirroring looks of worry and astonishment on their faces. Neither had looked so alike as they did right then. Az was the first one to her side, nearly shoving Cain out of the way in her rush, and she grasped DG's face in her hands, mashing DG's cheeks together and staring into her eyes frantically.

"Mrr," DG managed before batting Azkadellia's hands away from her cheeks so she could actually form whole words without sounding like she had a mouthful of cotton. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for my sister. Are you still you?" Azkadellia asked frantically, running her fingertips over DG's entire face as if to map her out by facial structure alone.

"Of course I'm still me, Az," DG responded, confused. "There's a little identity crisis happening here, true, but I'm still your sister."

Azkadellia trembled and swayed before her knees gave out, and would have collapsed if Cain hadn't quickly come to the rescue and grabbed her around the waist to keep her on her feet. Az's face went pale then flushed in rapid succession, and her eyes went glassy as if she were about to cry.

"Oh thank the Light," Az whimpered, and finally DG caught on. Her sister's own ordeal with the witch had her terrified that DG herself had been under some other power's influence. She had been searching to make sure that DG hadn't been possessed.

"You're welcome," DG joked weakly, before her mother rushed forward and nearly swept her out of her vanity chair with the force of her embrace.

"I should have known, how could I not know?" Her mother asked deliriously, pressing her forehead to DG's. "And your father, he has no idea, I left him in bed. I just felt the call and I just knew it must be you."

"You couldn't have known, Mother, I didn't."

"Oh but I should have, I should have!" Her mother insisted, stroking DG's hair while her tears began to run freely down her cheeks, some of them pattering down DG's own cheeks as she pressed their faces together.

DG wasn't sure if her mother was aware of exactly what had transpired the night the Light had placed herself within the Queen to become her unborn child. She had certainly seemed bewitched within the dream after the events. She didn't know if she could bring it up to the Queen either, not with an audience. And what exactly did that mean for her genetics? Did that mean that Lavender and Ahamo were not even her parents? DG couldn't even begin to cope with the idea of discovering for a second time that her family was not truly her own. Instead she chose the path of blanket denial and buried the thought away, hopefully never to return.

It suddenly dawned on DG that she was exhausted, surrounded by a multitude of people after the most important moment of her life, in the middle of the night. She was still drained from her apparent living firework display, of the discoveries she had made this night, and from the way her ears were ringing, DG had a sneaking suspicion that she might just up and faint from exhaustion at any moment. She spent a long, silent moment trying to figure out how to politely interject on the several different, merging discussions going on around her and disentangle herself from her mother's embrace, to tell her audience she was tired and all she wanted right then was one single night's uninterrupted sleep.

It suddenly dawned on her that as both a Princess and a goddess, or some reincarnation thereof, she had every right to order them all to leave her the hell alone and let her get some much needed sleep. Someone else beat her to the punch, however, before she had the chance to give her first 'word of DG'.

"Alright folks, I think the kid has had enough for one night. Whatever all this fancy talk means, she's still mortal like the rest of us, and she needs some sleep," Cain made himself heard above the din, his no-nonsense tone brooking no argument and somehow reigning in even a Queen and a Princess.

"Well, she certainly can't sleep here, and not alone. Not after this," Az argued, making an excellent point, since the room was half-charred, with shattered windows and shards of glass embedded in almost every soft surface.

"The kid can sleep in my quarters, I'll sleep in the sitting room. I'm thinkin' it would be a good idea to have Raw on hand if things get nasty again, if the furball agrees," Cain offered, looking to the Viewer for confirmation.

Raw nodded. "DG need sleep to heal. Heal heart, mind, body. Raw and Cain will guard sleep."

"That seems acceptable, for tonight. We'll find better accommodations tomorrow, my daughter," Lavender told her softly, finally pulling away to wipe at her wet cheeks. "I still can't believe it."

"Let's believe it in the morning, I really am tired," DG replied with a yawn, feeling dizzy.

"Alright then all, let's leave my daughter. Tutor, would you mind joining Ahamo and I? I believe we have much to discuss, despite the late hour," The Queen asked the shapeshifter, giving DG one last loving look before she guided herself and the man out of the destroyed room.

Azkadellia was the last to depart, giving DG one last studious look before she leaned in to press her lips softly to DG's curls and bidding her goodnight. "If you need me, DG, I will always be here."

Once the room was cleared of everyone but Raw, Cain and the carnage, DG made to stand, but wobbled embarrassingly like a newborn calf when she got to her feet. Her vision greyed for a moment and by the time it cleared, she was being hefted bodily into Cain's arms as the tin man grunted. "If you make any arguments about me carryin' you, I'm prepared to argue well into the night and keep you awake. You're dead on your feet."

DG conceded to the tin man's infallible logic, and reluctantly acquiesced under the threat of a lengthy battle of wits when her brain felt like mush, and let Cain carry her to his quarters, even though his room was just off hers and it was a short trip. She was briefly mortified to see the several guards standing at attention outside of her room, who all gave her reverent looks and looked at a loss as to how to properly address the Heir Apparent who was now also possibly a goddess. In her burnt nightie. She gave a little wave for a lack of a better option.

Raw opened all the doors for them, and Cain gently laid her on his bed, helping her with the covers even when she protested being tucked in.

"I'm not six you know. If you believe the hype, I'm as old as the world."

Cain studiously ignored her, and tucked the sheets in around her shoulders tight enough to stifle, as if on purpose. Once he was done, he patted his revolver meaningfully and gestured to the anteroom door.

"Raw and I'll be right out there, if there's any trouble, we'll be in here faster than you can blink," he promised.

"Raw will not sleep, for DG."

"Oh Raw, I want you to sleep. I think the circus act is done for the night. We should have at least twenty four hours before the next act comes on," DG murmured, making less sense as drowsiness overtook her.

"Raw doesn't know what DG mean, but goodnight," The Viewer said, and he shuffled out of the room.

Cain patted her head and said nothing, but gave her an intense look that bolstered her confidence in his ability to protect her from anything, even her dreams. He trailed after Raw, and the door closed softly behind them.

DG briefly noted that the windows in Cain's temporary room had also broken, but the damage was not so significant here, and his heavy wooden blinds were drawn, so she was safe from the elements as well as errant shards of glass. Immediately after her observation, DG fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

DG woke to a gentle tugging in her mind, like a niggling thought, soft and gentle. Groggily, she sat up and noticed someone sitting on the edge of the bed, regarding her in the dark. His eyes flashed green in the dark, like a cat's. He was frighteningly familiar to her. When he gave her a winning smile in greeting, her heart leapt up into her throat in recognition.

"You're the man from the attack on the Court Ball!" She gasped, and shuffled backward on the bed until she slammed into the headboard.

"Hush, my darling, you'll wake the others and we don't want that," he warned softly, his voice deep and somehow entrancing. "I just wanted to see you again now that you've finally awoken."

DG blinked in confusion for a moment before she comprehended his words. "You knew who I was? How?"

He flashed that smile again, his perfect white teeth shining in the dark. He was disturbingly attractive still, and DG was even more discomfited by the fact that he seemed to draw her in, that she could notice his handsomeness, even as she was terrified by this man who had her cornered in the dark, away from her friends.

"I would always know you, my Half. Through hell and back, I could find you," he told her solemnly, and then with a flash of black light, his disguise flickered and she saw him as he truly was, all unruly blonde hair and impossible green eyes, and then he flickered back. "You're not the only one who's playing mortal. I borrowed this one a few years ago. He doesn't mind."

DG's heart began to thump erratically, and without warning, her magic flashed in time with her heartbeat, not quite as destructive as it had been, now just a warning glow, but she had no control over it. "Oh my God."

"Got it in one!" He laughed delightedly, his soft laughter harmonious and pleasing to the ear. "Did you enjoy my gift?"

Flashing back to the night in the infirmary, and the gruesome package that had been delivered to her unseen, DG shuddered. "No!"

"I thought you would. I won't suffer those who hurt you, my Half. That man hurt you and yours, and so I made him suffer." He shrugged, as if not offended that she had not appreciated his effort. "Regardless, now that you've come back to me, we can be as we once were. Come, lover, join me once again."

He offered her his hand, smiling gently, and his eyes actually radiated a soft, warm glow that made her heart clench and release in her chest. Something in her was inexplicably drawn to him, and to the hand that was outstretched to her. She actually wanted to take it, to go with him wherever he would lead her.

Then DG snapped back to herself, to the DG who was firmly planted in the here and now and not thousands of years in the past as a different being. "No, I can't. As tempting as that is, I don't take rides from strangers."

The Dark's gentle smile faded and a sullen, childlike anger radiated in his face. "But I want you."

"Tough, buddy. I'm not her, I'm not anyone's 'Half', I'm my own damn person," she bit out quietly, and her magic crackled audibly around her.

"You don't understand, you can't survive on your own. Especially not in that shell you wear. You will die without me. I want you to come willingly," He told her, his jaw clenching so tightly that she could hear it pop.

"I don't believe you," DG retorted. "I want you to leave now."

"Or what? You'll call on the rusty tin man? The furry Viewer? The dirt-crawlers? I'll slaughter them, I'll slaughter anyone who comes between us, my Half. And it will be because of you," he snarled darkly.

"You won't touch them!" DG hissed, clawing her hands. There was one blinding arc of white light that flashed out in his direction at the threat against her friends and loved ones, and he recoiled.

"I will bring you to me, one way or the other. I only wish you would do it the easy way," he told her, suddenly saddened. His green eyes regarded her for a long moment in the dark and he reached out a hand and stroked the edge of the aura of her magic and it set off a shudder that went to her very core and rattled her with the strength of the strange emotion.

It was very near arousal, and DG flushed and pushed herself further back, even though there was nowhere to retreat to, with the wall at her back.

"I will see you again, my love, and soon," he promised, and then with a black flash and a shimmer, he was gone.

DG stared into the darkness and waited for the shivers to subside. She had never been so full of want and fright in her entire life. His words echoed in her ears for the rest of the night, while DG sat frozen in the same near-fetal position, sleepless until dawn.


	10. Mad World

A/N: Tired, sick, midterms. This is my least favourite chapter by far, but it's a necessary transitional one. Read and review!

* * *

Cain roused first, as usual waking just before dawn, an old habit that died hard. He left Raw where he was curled up in an over-large armchair, contorted so that his large body was mostly on the cushion and looking like nothing more than a great big lap dog. He didn't want to rouse the kid, but he needed to use the facilities something fierce, and to do that he'd need to go through the suite's bedroom, since the two rooms were interconnected. Cain adjusted his pj pants so they weren't slung low on his hips, wished he had the foresight to grab a shirt the previous night, and gently brushed his knuckles against the closed door. He was surprised when DG's hoarse voice answered immediately.

"Who is it?" she called out, sounding anxious.

"It's just me, kid," Cain answered as he opened the door and stepped into the room, politely looking away from the bed in case DG wasn't decent. Not that she'd been particularly decent the night before. To his surprise though, DG wasn't in the bed, rather sitting on a wing-backed rocker by the window, facing the door with her knees drawn up to her chest. "Why're you awake? Dreams again? You should have woken me up."

DG shook her head slowly, as if it took all of her energy to complete the action, and Cain noticed the dark circles under her eyes and her pallor. "No, not dreams."

"Then what?" Cain queried, closing the door behind him softly and moving closer to DG's encampment by the window, where strangely enough she had erected a sort of barrier using a broken shutter. As if to keep herself walled off from unwanted company.

"I had a visitor," she murmured quietly, palming at her eyes exhaustedly. "Tall, blonde, handsome. Immortal."

Cain's heartbeat ratcheted up a notch and he pulled aside the shutter to get close to her, first checking with his eyes, then with his fingers, for any apparent injuries. DG batted away his fingers tiredly and rolled her eyes at him.

"He didn't try to hurt me, Cain. He was just trying to whisk me away. You know, all inclusive vacation, complimentary breakfast, that whole bit. But I declined, I had a feeling it would end with a presentation on timeshares," she joked weakly, purposely confounding him once more with phrases and things from the Otherside of which he had no clue.

"The Dark was here last night?" Cain latched on to this bit he clearly understood, clenching his jaw and settling himself down into a crouch before her so she couldn't continue dropping her gaze to the floor to avoid meeting his eyes. "He was tryin' to take you away?"

DG gave a slow nod of affirmation and linked her fingers together to stare at the pattern blankly. "He thinks now that I'm, you know, that we should just pick up back where we left off."

Cain reached out and snatched up her intertwined hands, pulling them apart gently and enveloping them in his own. "Hell no, that's not happenin'."

"That's pretty much what I said, and then he got all threat-happy," DG affirmed with a sour look, scowling to show how much she appreciated threats.

"What did he threaten exactly?" Cain asked, a heavy feeling settling into his stomach at the thought that he had not been there to intercede. The god could have snatched DG away from him, from all of them on a whim and he would have been snoring away on a couch, one wall apart and unaware. He could have done _anything_.

"He told me that I wouldn't survive without him. That my gifts were too powerful for a mortal body and without him I would die. Then he made various implications, vague stuff. I'm pretty sure he's willing to do anything it takes to get me to go with him," DG told him, her pretty mouth twisting with worry and apprehension. Her eyes were pensive and a cloudier blue than they normally were as she unwittingly laced her fingers with his as if she wasn't aware she was doing it.

Cain squeezed her fingers. "I'm sure he was willin' to say anythin' to make you think you had to go with him, kid. I know you, you won't let him bully you into anythin'. And I won't let him take you."

"He's a god, Cain, how do you stop something like that?" DG argued, her point not totally off base, but not one Cain was willing to wholly concede to. As far as he was concerned, god or not, no one was spiriting DG away, he'd deal with the finer points later.

"Details," he scoffed with a hint of a smirk. "Besides, he may be a god, but someone told me recently you're a little holy yourself. I'd like to see him contend with that. Kid, on your worst day, as nothing more than yourself, I'm pretty sure you'd put up a fight that'd knock him flat on his ass. Now there's just a little more kick behind that mouth of yours."

DG finally gave him a wry smile, it was small and it was tired, but it was the first smile he'd seen from her in awhile. "Yeah, not gonna lie, I'm kind of a big deal."

"That's the gal I know," he said affectionately, then disentangled his hands, watching DG puzzle over the fact that their fingers were intertwined with a smile, and ruffled her curls until she made a face and gave him a warning look. "Now I definitely have to use the facilities."

"Facilities? You're so posh, Cain."

He rolled his eyes at her and clambered to his feet. "Stay put, I'll be back."

Cain extracted a promise from the girl, who didn't look like she had it in her to put up a fight, just to be contrary, anyhow, and made his way to the utilitarian bathroom off the bedroom. When he finished up, he caught a look at himself in the mirror and groaned. DG wasn't the only one who was suffering from a few nights' interrupted sleep. He looked drawn and bruised around the eyes, and he'd let a few days worth of scruff develop on his cheeks. Promising himself he would do a proper shave, _after breakfast_, he headed back in to the room, and offered his hand to a fatigued looking DG.

"Let's get breakfast since sleep seems to be playin' hard and fast with us," he said, hefting the girl easily to her feet even as she seemed to let him pull all her weight. DG seemed partial to this suggestion and she even brightened a bit.

"I need to go back to my room to change, though. This nightie smells like smoke and it's making me nauseous," DG told him, pulling at the fabric as if to hold the offending garment away from her. Luckily, some of DG's clothing had been transferred to her temporary room, so they wouldn't have to trek up to her formal quarters, and he was pretty sure they'd be relatively unscathed by the damage of DG's powers fully unleashed.

"Let me change first, and then I'll take you to your room."

"There's like, a battalion of guards out there. A plethora even. I'm pretty sure they can keep an eye out in the two minutes it will take for these exciting new events to unfold, Cain," she argued, raising a brow at him.

"You know my opinion of the palace guard," Cain rebutted, faintly amused that DG seemed to have picked up his habit of raising an eyebrow, seemingly unaware that she was mimicking it back at him.

"Right, well then, I'll wait in the sitting room with Raw. Should we wake him for breakfast?"

Cain shrugged, leaving the decision up to her, and waited for her to shut the door behind her while he did the fastest wardrobe change he had ever pulled off, including his time in the tin man academy when he was a recruit and getting into uniform had been allotted in heartbeats. He was still rolling the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, simultaneously shrugging into his light cotton vest when he strolled out into the sitting room. DG was only just now gently waking the lightly snoring Viewer, shaking his shoulder gently. The kid was the only person he knew who could not only surprise a sleeping Viewer and live to tell the tale, but the only person alive who could do such a thing and get a sleepy smile out of the furball. Last time he had toed a boot into the Viewer when they had been travelling and breaking camp for the morning, the furball had attacked his boot and once that had been resolved, his boot slightly marked by dental impressions, Raw had been grumpy for the better part of the morning.

"Hey Raw," she said softly. "We're going to breakfast, do you want to come or do you want to curl up in the bed and go back to sleep?"

Raw gave a jaw-cracking yawn, showing his pointed canines, and waved her off. "Raw sleep."

She smiled and gave his cheek an affectionate stroke. "Alright big guy, we'll see you later, okay?"

The Viewer nodded, and didn't bother relocating to the much larger bed, instead he slightly adjusted his position with a series of stretches and rolling of limbs, looking for all the world like a big cat, and fell immediately back to sleep. DG grinned at him and smothered a laugh so as not to wake her friend, and they left the suite, locking the door behind them. Cain pocketed the key while DG waved off the offer of an escort to the kitchens from multiple guards, noting that the guards all had a look of hushed mix of adoration and awe, and that not a few pairs of eyes watched the Princess with a little too much interest and heat in his opinion. He cracked his knuckles in general warning as DG caught up to him after thanking each guard individually for standing watch over them through the night, and soon they fell into step. They decided to eat informally, in the kitchens, rather than taking breakfast in the dining hall. It was unlikely that many would be up at this time, and the idea of sitting just the pair of them at the long, formal dining table wasn't a pleasant one. DG yawned as she ducked under his arm when he opened the kitchen door for him.

"I'm more messed up than a soup sandwich," she told him quietly as they took in the chaos of the early morning rush to prep breakfast for an entire palace. "I'm so tired and my head just keeps going in circles."

Cain pulled her out of the way of a careening prep cook as he spun past her with a steaming copper kettle, and scowled at the young kitchen helper. "Well, save it 'til after breakfast then."

"I can't exactly put my brain on hold, Cain. Although I don't doubt that you have mastered that art," she scoffed, and settled herself at one of the tiny tables in the corner of the kitchen that served as the informal breakfast lounge.

"What, thinkin'?" He inquired, confused.

"No, the lack of it," she teased playfully, bumping her elbow into his on the tabletop as one of the kitchen staff came by with a tray laden with what was already prepared by this time.

The young blonde who laid the tray down on their table, covered with dainty pastries and heartier breads, clotted creams and jams, and bowls of thick stewed oats with golden raisins and slices of melon and thin ham, lowered her head at the sight of DG and demurely looked at her through her eyelashes. "Lady," she breathed, and then darted away from them as fast as her slippered feet would take her.

DG went stiff for a moment before she visibly brushed the event from her mind. "After breakfast," she murmured, and grabbed a chipped mug of strong coffee off the tray and proceeded to ladle spoonful after spoonful of lumps of sugar into it.

Cain sighed, not bothering to comment on her habit of having more sugar than coffee, and used a small knife to slather butter on a roll. "That's goin' to be happenin' a lot, you're going to have to get used to it."

"I was just getting _used_ to being a Princess, this is going to take more than a few etiquette lessons to adjust to. Before, I could at least get to know them, charm them with my winning ways and get them to treat me as a human being instead of as a royal, but _now,_" she stressed, wrinkling her noise at his offer of a slice of cantaloupe and reaching for a powdered pastry stuffed with strawberries. "Now, I don't think I even qualify as a human being."

Shrugging, Cain took a swig of his piping hot black coffee, and looked her in the eye. "What they think ain't important. You're you, and you have to remember what that means."

DG grumbled around a mouthful of pastry and threw her hands up in exasperation. "What does that mean?"

Cain raised his brows at her. "You want me to tell you?"

Swallowing, DG nodded softly and reached for her coffee. "Yes, please."

Not being a man of many words, Cain had to think for a long moment before he answered. What was DG? How did you quantify, qualify, the girl who had swept back into the O.Z., turned it on its head, rescued him and all the other strays who had wandered into her path without a single thought for her own safety, and who confounded him daily? How did you sum up all the amazing things that made DG who she was into a whole in a few short sentences?

Cain was almost relieved when his thought process and inevitable stumbling over of words was interrupted by an impossibly loud noise in the distance. It sounded like mountains slamming into each other, like giant slabs of rock grinding together discordantly, and the entire palace trembled. The sound of pots and pans rattling together joined the cacophony, and their mugs danced across the tabletop in a tremulous to the table's edge before Cain caught them and held both mugs with his hands. At the sound, DG had frozen, eyes wide and staring, and at first Cain thought she was just surprised as he was at the terrible noise, but then there was a loud, electric crackle from afar, like lightening striking somewhere outside the palace walls, and DG's entire body went rigid. Suddenly her power arced out from her with such force it made her body convulse and the mugs in Cain's hand shattered along with the saucers and serving dishes. A cook swore in the background as all the pots and kettles on his stove suddenly began to boil over in sync. Cain swore and pulled his hands back as steaming hot coffee and shards of porcelain sprayed outward.

As if in answer to DG's power, that crackling sound came again, this time sounding closer to their proximity and another arc of DG's magic, blindingly bright, came, and this time stranger things happened. The strawberries in front of her suddenly grew more lush and blossomed white flowers and green stems, like they were back on the vine. They were several shouts and cries in the kitchen, but DG seemed to take no notice, not even when a few of the servers and cooks dropped to their knees in fearful reverence. She suddenly slid her chair back so fast it overturned and hit the floor with a clatter and she darted through the doors from the kitchen leading to the formal dining room blindly, using her shoulder to shove the heavy doors open.

With an oath, Cain was on his feet and after her a heartbeat later. By the time he reached her, shouting her name as he trailed steps behind her, it was only because the kid had stopped her dead run after barrelling through a set of exterior doors to a balcony that overlooked the west. He caught her arm as she stepped forward to lean heavily on the railing, her upper body tilting dangerously over it, and she stared fixedly into the distance with a look of horror on her face. Cain followed her silent gesture when she pointed, and he squinted, looking into the far horizon, looking for what had her so perturbed that her magic was heated against his palm. Not quite the blistering heat that he had come up close and personal with the previous night, but by no means comfortable. It took him a moment to see what she saw, but when he did there was a slow shiver low in his belly.

Over the West Gate, and far on the horizon, in the middle of the Great Kells, it was as if the heart of the mountains had reshaped themselves, twisting and growing until they resembled a sort of tower of black, shining stone.

"That wasn't there yesterday," he said slowly, voice deceptively casual as his fingers spasmed on DG's upper arm.

"It's him, Cain, I can feel it. He reshaped the mountains!" She whispered, awestruck and fearful.

"Relax, kid. You've got to get yourself under control," he told her softly, bringing her attention to where her hands were warping the metal railing with the heat of her magic. She looked down, then to his hand holding her arm as if noticing for the first time his touch and the way her aura of power was whipping around of her, out of control, and winced.

"I don't know how to control it, it's not like my normal magic, and even that was hard to control," she admitted with a guilty look, then there was another monstrous grinding noise and they both looked to see another part of the mountain groan and twist until it had shaped itself into another piece of the tower, black magic crackling around the stone and baking it a shining coal black.

"What is he doing?" DG asked, fear creeping into her voice and making it sharp.

"I have no earthly idea, kid. Maybe he's just setting up shop."

"He's reshaped the entire Great Kells!" She protested, her fingers gripping the railing so tightly that the entire bar warped and she tipped forward as the barrier slid, and only Cain's grip on her kept her from going over the edge.

"Alright, back away from the edge, I'm not up to heroics this early in the mornin'. We can only wait and see what his next move is, kid. I don't like it anymore than you do, but there's no sense in makin' yourself sick over it."

"I hate waiting, I don't know if you've noticed," DG told him, with a tremor of fear and frustration in her voice. "I'm not a very patient person."

Cain made a strangled noise in his throat as he tried to swallow a laugh. "You've hidden it well."

DG turned away from the balcony with visible effort, and with a shudder that rocked her from head to toe, she managed to get her magic down to a fine glow, although it still sparked wildly with every breath she took. She gently removed Cain's hand and inspected it for blisters, trying not to touch him with her light infused hands. She tutted as she noticed the redness on his palms, but seemed at least a little relieved by the fact that there weren't any sores or blisters. The heat from her fingers when she did touch him made Cain's stomach flip flop, and the sensation made him blush lightly. It was a sad thing when a man could get excited over the smallest of touches, especially from one of his closest companions, but Cain put it down to having gone so long without female company and stored it away with the rest of his 'things to never think on again'.

"I guess we should go reassure the kitchen staff that the sky isn't falling," DG murmured over his hands.

"Maybe we'll wait until you stop flashing like a sign in the red light district in Central City," Cain offered, afraid that the kitchen staff had already witnessed a display too divine to be reassured. "Kid, you need to calm down."

Cain ignored DG's protests and grabbed her hands, tugging her to him until she was loosely enfolded in his arms. He stroked her back, ignoring the heat she was giving off and concentrating on that little spot in his chest that was all DG, that was still agitated. He ran his fingers lightly up and down the muscles lining her spine until she went limp under his ministrations and leaned against him further, making little noises of pleasure against his chest.

_Hey, there are perks to this job after all. _

By the time DG had stopped flashing erratically, her magic once again firmly entrenched under her skin, the spot in his chest had gone dormant once more. He regretfully untangled them and led the kid back to the kitchens, even though he would rather pass the place by altogether. He had a keen sense of the dramatics that awaited their return, and sure enough, as they entered, the entire staff had gathered near the doors and were kneeled, prostrate, at their feet, murmuring apologies to DG and begging her forgiveness. The kid froze, unused to this kind of behaviour, even above and beyond the reactions she got as Heir Apparent. Cain placed a hand at her back and pushed her forward gently to bring her back to herself, knowing DG would be able to extricate herself from the situation, trusting her better than himself to end this farce. He would only resort to yelling and cowing the staff even further.

"Whoa, hey. Thank you," DG told the crowd, mortified and going a delightful shade of pink. "Guys, that's enough. I'm the same princess you've always known."

When the head cook lifted his head from the floor to peer at her, DG jumped at the opportunity. "I'm still the little girl who used to sneak in and burn her fingers stealing hot cookies, who you'd threaten with a wooden spoon before making me wait and giving me two."

The man blushed and half-smiled, running a hand through his thinning grey hair. "You were a right little sneak," he muttered. "Had to keep an eye out for you, or else you'd be in the pantry sniffing 'round the icing sugar."

DG clapped her hands and laughed brightly. "Exactly! And you! I remember you, Malka! You'd always bring me hot teas that tasted awful, but that always made my stomach feel better when I was sick."

Malka raised her blonde head and went crimson. "My teas always soothe an upset stomach. They don't taste awful!" She rebutted with an offended air, before squeaking and clapping a hand over her mouth for speaking thusly to a goddess.

"No, they do! But that doesn't matter. What's important is, I'm DG. I'm your princess. I grew up with you, I came back to you, I'm _yours_. I don't want this, I don't want prayers and the bowing and the awkwardness. I want my friends back, I want to be threatened with a wooden spoon and given gross teas when I need them," DG told the crowd, her face pleading.

"How can we do that Lady? You are the Light! We can't just go 'round treatin' you as if you was one of us," a kitchen helper objected, his face pale and freckled, and dusted with a bit of gingery scruff.

"But I am one of you. I want you to treat me that way."

There were murmurs of protest but DG clapped her hands and scowled at them. "At least get off your damn knees," she cried as she lost her patience.

Like scolded children, the kitchen staff rose from their kneels and when Cain growled at them, they slowly got back to their business, moving back to their stations and looking chided. Once the kitchen was at least a semblance of order once more, DG sighed and let Cain lead her from the great room.

"It's always going to be like this now, isn't it? Because I'm not one of them, am I?" She asked, her face saddened and her voice muted.

"You'll get them back, kid. You always win 'em over in the end."


	11. Ain't no rest for the wicked

_A/N: Sorry for the delay folks, kinda going through a crisis. Sorry I haven't been able to reply to each and every review, but I fully intend on keeping up with that from here on out, and trust me I read and treasure each one. Super congrats to candyflavordlies for being the first to figure out that the fic title is a song by A Fine Frenzy. In fact every chapter is the title of a song that I found motivating for the chapter. If anyone is interested, I'll post a songlist at some point. This is a short chapter, but be prepared, this is the last chapter before the second arc, action ahoy! xoxo_

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After another night of next to no sleep, DG was bordering on crazy, teetering towards completely batty. She had spent the majority of the night camped out on a battered armchair a guard had quietly brought out for her, tangled in a plush blanket, drinking coffee and watching the new and improved mountains of the Kells on one of the balconies in the west wing of the Palace. Cain was her ever present shadow, lacking on sleep himself, but refusing to leave her to this folly on her own, he stood guard, occasionally excusing himself to grab another pot of coffee for them. She had pilfered Ahamo's reworked telescope, imbued with a little magic for far-seeing, and watched as dozens of tiny specks that were probably people, but possibly cattle, herded and trekked towards the new tower in the west. She and Cain had spoken little, but the feeling of dread crept between them like a palpable thing as they watched the pilgrimage. Several times through the night, DG had felt magic in the distance, stuff that made her stomach crawl and her skin itch. Each time, her own magic had responded in kind, flaring and making her into a human torch.

Now, at breakfast, DG was yanking at her dishevelled curls with one hand, spooning jam in abundance on the crusty bread she didn't plan on eating, and half-listening to Azkadellia as she talked about who the hell knew what. She was waiting for news that she knew was coming, dreading it even as she couldn't wait for it to come, for this dread and anxiety and waiting to be over. At her left, Cain was half dozing in his oatmeal, blinking sleepily at the designs she traced with her jam-covered spoon on her napkin. She wondered how long they could keep this up, her waiting for the hammer to fall and him waiting for her.

Other than Cain, it was family in attendance, as well as Glitch and Raw. Raw was tucking heartily into his giant turquoise-coloured boiled egg, that came from some creature DG wasn't sure she wanted to know existed. He had a slab of ham the size of his fist and just as thick half eaten, and he was making little purring noises of appreciation in the back of his throat as he happily ate. Glitch was picking at a muffin, in one of his strange, quiet modes where his face was oddly blank. It had been happening more and more of late as the brain room doctors worked to fuse the halves of his brain together. DG thought he looked like a computer screen in sleep mode. It made her sad to know her friend was so separated that he didn't know which half of himself he was on any given day, and she thought maybe, just maybe, she could appreciate his confusion.

Cain finally seemed to notice that she was more playing with her food than consuming it and he gave her a nudge with his elbow, and gave her a meaningful glare. "Stop playin' with it, and eat. It's like I'm watchin' a child. Again."

DG glared right on back at him and set down her jam covered spoon. "I'm not hungry. Don't call me a child."

Gesturing to her artwork, Cain cleared his throat. "I call 'em like I see 'em, _kid_."

"_Stop calling me that!"_ DG shouted, drawing the attention of the table crowd, which was only further exacerbated when all the silverware on the table clattered and rose to hover several feet in the air. Her jam covered spoon rotated and dripped grotesque pulpy crimson just in front of her forehead. DG felt a sudden roll of queasiness and then with a sharp pain that radiated from inside her head, her nose spouted blood and she stared as it dribbled off her chin and onto her plate, ruining the mess anyways, and felt both surprised and mortified. Her head thumped painfully in time to her heartbeat, and fresh blood fountained from her nose. There were audible gasps from the group and someone made a faint choking noise as they tried to inhale around their half-eaten toast.

"DG, you can put the silverware down now," her mother intoned dryly, gesturing to her butter knife rotating slowly in the air before her.

"I don't think I can," DG muttered, trying to find her napkin to soak up the blood from her nose as Cain grabbed her wrist and tried to assess the damage while she batted him away.

It was perfect that Jeb chose that moment to burst in, angrily threatening to rearrange body parts in anatomically impossible ways at the guard who trailed him for making him wait so long and DG's heart flip flopped in her chest. Ignoring Cain's protest, she slid back her chair and stood, fisting her cloth napkin to her nose and tilting her chin up. She could handle this, she could.

Jeb had been put in charge of the intelligence in regards to the Kells, because he and his squad had a way of getting information from the people of the O.Z. that no tin man could. She just hadn't expected him to come bearing the news so quickly. Jeb took off his slanted cap as he reached the table, ran a hand through his wayward hair, bowed to the Queen and her Consort, to Az and herself and gave his father a nod. He took in the scene before him with raised brows.

"Did I come at a bad time?" He asked, looking up at the floating silverware and at DG's bloody napkin.

DG actually smiled at this, glad for once that there were no hushed words, no strange looks, just words among friends. She had always liked Cain's son, he had his father's practicality and ability to take new things in stride. "No," DG said dryly. "Jeb, the Kells. Tell me you found something out."

"Didn't even have to look for it, the information came right to me in the form of one of my own men. He said he had to go, had to leave for the Great Kells, to the tower, right away," Jeb told them with a scowl, twisting his cap in his hands. "He said he got a call, inside of him, and it awoke something he never knew he had in him."

DG frowned and tried to make sense of this information. "He got a call? Like, E.T. phone home? What does that even mean?"

Jeb blinked at her turn of phrase and shrugged. "I'm not sure, but he's not the only one. All over the O.Z., men and women are waking up and deciding to pack up their lives to travel to the Kells. By the thousands, if what I've heard isn't exaggerated."

Cain took a long sip of his coffee, his face so tight his jaw cracked as he swallowed, and grimaced. "So he's buildin' an army, then."

DG looked at him aghast, and Lavender and Azkadellia gasped in sync. At that moment, the silverware began to spin erratically, and jam flung off in droplets from DG's spoon, landing everywhere.

Raw looked at the glob that landed on his arm and made an aggrieved noise. "Jam so hard to get out of fur."

"No, he can't be. He's planning a war?" DG asked frantically, ignoring the Viewer.

"He did say he'd do anythin' to get you back, didn't he?" Cain told her pointedly, raising a brow and looking serious as a heart attack. "Maybe he's thinkin' he needs somethin' big to get your attention. I can't think of anythin' bigger than a war."

Suddenly losing the feeling in her legs as her power rose with such force that it crackled and made the teacups on the table do a merry jig across the tablecloth, DG sat with a thump. "No, no, no. This is bad."

"Doll, this isn't your fault," Glitch chimed in, shifting back, like the rest, from the bright flare of her power. "He's acting like a small child because he hasn't gotten what he wants, and he's throwing a temper tantrum on a grand scale, but that's not your fault."

Another tremor, another pulse of magic, and suddenly DG's head was full of terrible pressure and her nose erupted anew, blood flowing freely down her chin. Embarrassed and mortified at her lack of control, DG hid her face as her mind worked frantically. War? Here? DG couldn't stand to see her home, her real home, wrecked by the ravages of a long and bloody war, especially one she could prevent. She made a distraught noise and reached without looking for Cain's hand, which she found halfway as he reached out for hers simultaneously.

"No, kid," he warned, apparently seeing the direction her mind was taking.

"I have to, Cain. I can't sit by and let him do this to the O.Z." DG murmured into her napkin, trying to sop up the mess and control the pounding in her head at the same time.

"What does my daughter have to do?" Ahamo questioned thickly. "What does she think is her duty this time?"

DG lifted her head to make eye contact with her father and snuffled pathetically. "I have to stop this war before it starts, I have to go to the Dark."

"No! You've done enough, DG! You've already saved the O.Z. once, no one expects you to have to do it again," Azkadellia chimed in, fisting her small hands in her skirts and looking mournful and determined.

"I'm the only one who can! He wants me, only me. Then he'll stop," DG told her, feeling her heart wrench in her chest and catching Cain's pained look and the fingers that went to his own chest. She gripped his hand tighter.

Jeb was watching this interchange with a frown and he finally spoke up. "I don't think it's wise for the Heir Apparent to go traipsing off across the O.Z. to go to a god who seems at least halfways crazy."

"Thank you, son. How can you think we would let you do this, kid? You are the next in line to the throne, you must be protected at all costs," Cain told her fiercely, tugging her hand until she looked him in the eye. "Do you think the Dark will just let you go after a visit? I'm thinkin' he plays for keeps, here."

DG threw up her hands, frustrated by the attack from all sides. "Then I abdicate, or whatever! Az will have to be the Heir. I won't just sit here and let the Dark tear this kingdom apart when I can _stop it!_"

"DG, my darling, no. We have our own army, we'll play his game, but we won't let you go to him," Lavender told her with a firm head shake. "No one takes my daughter from me."

Ahamo wrapped his arm around his wife and gave a nod of agreement, looking at her with determined eyes. DG looked around the table and found that everyone had that same, unified look, that look that said they would fight a long, bloody battle before they'd let her go. Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden, and DG swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. This was her family, these were her friends, and they were telling her without words that they would lay down their lives for her. And the sad truth was, unless DG acted, it would come to that. And she could never allow that.

"It's not your choice to make. You'll have to chain me in the dungeons before I let some dude ruin my home, hurt my friends. These are my people, you've pounded that into my head since day one. My first duty is to the people, and I can't just turn my head away and pretend that duty doesn't exist now," DG explained hoarsely, trying not to cry and make a fool of herself. Or more of a fool, whatever. "I'm going, I have to."

"Then DG not go alone," Raw growled, thumping his fist down on the table and half rising from his seat.

"You can send a battalion of men with her," Jeb pointed out thoughtfully. "At least a dozen."

"Like hell!" Cain objected loudly. "You won't send any men because she isn't going!"

"We'll come with you, dollface, it'll be just like old times," Glitch told her with a crooked smile. "I kinda miss the old campfires and sing-a-longs."

"Sing-a-longs?" Raw inquired, momentarily distracted from his bristling determination.

DG shook her head wildly and pounded the table with an open palm to hush her friends. "No, no, no. No one is coming with me. I do this alone."

"Over my dead, cold body, kid," Cain told her shortly.

"DG, we can't let you do this alone, even if we let you go!" Azkadellia cried, her eyes glossy with tears, her fists white-knuckled with strain in her skirts.

"Yes, you can," she told them quietly. "I'm not going to war, I'm going to a god. A god who is insanely jealous, and isn't really a 'people person'. He wants me, me alone."

"Oh my darling, how can you expect us to stay behind and let you go off to this great unknown. It would be like losing you a second time," Lavender said hoarsely, leaning into Ahamo's embrace for support.

"And it ain't gonna happen!" Cain roared, making everyone at the table flinch. "You made me your champion, am I right? Well I don't know much, but I do know that means I stick with you."

DG looked at him, her heart pounding wildly, and saw the look she was well-acquainted with from her time with Cain. His mind was made up, and there was no going back. She swallowed thickly and looked down at where their hands were still entangled, and she felt the heaviest of weights descend upon her. This was Cain, he was the man who had fought beside her, berated her, held her close, confided in her, infuriated her, and who was ultimately her greatest friend and ally. She truly wanted him at her side, but the thought of harm coming to him made her literally want to shatter. He was the strongest man she'd ever known, but compared to a god, he was as fragile as glass. Before she could make up her mind, however, Cain gripped her chin and took the cloth napkin from her hand to wipe the blood off her face. He looked her dead in the eye.

"You made your decision? Fine, here's mine: I go wherever you go. Period."

Heart sinking, DG realized there was no way to leave Cain behind. But maybe she could protect him. She gave the barest of nods and dropped her head.

"Good, I'm glad you see it my way. First thing though, let Raw take care of this," he gestured at her still trickling nose, and the reminder made her head pound.

Raw nodded and stood up, making his way through the sudden silence to her side of the table. Once there he gripped the sides of her face and touched his thumbs to bridge of her nose. He let his feral eyes drift closed and there was a sudden wrench in her head and then the pain was gone. Instead of letting go, though, Raw let his hands drift down her face and onto her shoulders, where he gripped her tightly. He frowned and his eyelids fluttered. DG raised her hands to cover Raw's and watched his face as the Viewer delved inside of her, using his gift. When his eyes finally opened, Raw looked deeply troubled, which made DG's stomach flip flop uncomfortably.

"I'm not pregnant, am I?" She joked weakly, not noticing that she nearly gave Ahamo a coronary at the head of the table. Her mother coughed and Azkadellia sighed at her poor taste.

"No. DG's organs weak. Too much magic, makes DG's body sick." Raw informed her hesitantly.

"Another reason she shouldn't go!" Azkadellia said, leaning forward worriedly to study DG.

"No, another reason I should go. He said this would happen. I can't handle my power in a human body without him," DG explained with trepidation, swallowing the sick feeling rising in her gut.

Cain swore and turned away from them all suddenly. "When do we leave then?" He muttered blackly.

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow, even." DG said hesitantly, gripping Raw's hands where he still held on to her as if for strength. She knew the reaction this would garner her.

"Tomorrow?"

"That's too soon!"

"You need to prepare, you can't do this all willy nilly, doll!"

**DG felt a burst of frustration and the silverware clattered threateningly, but did not repeat their earlier performance. "There's no preparing for this! I just want to get it over with before any more damage is done!" **

**Her slight show of power silenced the protests and DG glanced down at her lap where she had locked her hands together and was squeezing so hard her fingers had gone white. "Tomorrow," she repeated. **


End file.
